


What's In The Water

by Nicolaruth27



Category: Rizzoli & Isles
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Crossover, F/F, it's in the water
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-08
Updated: 2015-08-08
Packaged: 2018-04-13 15:57:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 34,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4528233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nicolaruth27/pseuds/Nicolaruth27
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's In The Water Rizzles movie mashup fic - Someone's killing the old folks at Beechgrove Retirement Home and there's a new Medical Examiner in town with a familiar face. World's collide, private lives unravel, desires overflow, and rumors abound as people start to wonder... what's in the water?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I’ve wanted to write ‘It’s in the Water’ with a Rizzles twist for a while now and after re-watching it again recently this is what developed. It’s such a gloriously cheesy movie with some genuinely sweet moments and I thought it lent itself well to R&I.  
> I’ve taken a lot of liberties in adapting the movie plot here in order to make it fit the R&I universe and vice versa, so maybe you’d call it AU, I dunno. You decide. The homicide case is borrowed from Scott & Bailey because it fits perfectly.

The floor surrounding Jane Rizzoli’s full length mirror was cluttered with various pairs of shoes. Each pair had been tried on for a minute, deemed unsuitable, and discarded. The pair she had on now weren’t ideal but they were the best of a bad bunch and she was quickly running out of time.

She inspected her feet from every feasible angle before turning her attention to the whole outfit. Huffing audibly, she resigned herself to leaving her apartment in what she was now wearing. Stroking her palms down her body to smooth out the fabric, she mumbled, “That’s as good as it’s gonna get.”

The lanky brunette tucked a lock of wavy hair behind her ear and turned to leave but froze as she surveyed yet more mess. On the bed lay an impressive pile of clothes. Dresses, blouses, and trousers in various fabrics were strewn haphazardly, all quickly succumbing to creases. The material mountain taunted her, whispering ingrained insults about what a terrible housekeeper she was; terrible wife, terrible daughter. Just terrible.

She never had been the tidiest person in the world, and admittedly there had been times of illness or injury where she had been absolutely disinterested in any form of housework, but Casey would understandably throw a fit if he came home and discovered their bedroom looked like somebody had thrown a grenade into Kohl’s.

It was her mother’s voice, that guilt, and it was formidable even without her presence. Jane’s shoulders slumped and she breathed a deep, weary sigh before striding out of the room, making sure to close the door firmly, putting the seal on her personal disaster zone.

oOo

The church sign had been changed since the last time Jane had attended Sunday mass. Where it’s previous message of ‘Come join our flock’ had offered a friendly invitation, its current greeting was a decidedly more judgemental ‘Let Jesus save you from your sins’.

To Jane’s fairly liberal mind it was the kind of thing that pushed good people away; the focus was always on what you did wrong and how bad you were, no matter how much you wanted to save the world. Good intentions were damned.

Father Crowley was already speaking and Jane tried to push her way silently into the pew, but heavy wood creaked and groaned, drawing very unwanted attention, as several people stood to let her pass. She hunched over, trying to make herself look smaller, grumbling thanks and then apologies to every person who scowled in her direction.

Finally perched next to her mother, she leaned in and whispered, “Sorry I’m late.”

Angela Rizzoli’s undivided attention was on the priest and so her response was a barely turned head and an angry, scolding “Shhh!”

Jane tutted and folded her arms in a huff, wishing she’d gone with Casey, or to the gym, or even stayed at home and buried herself under Mount Material. Anything was better than being simultaneously ignored and chastised by her own mother.

This week’s sermon seemed focused on giving; giving to charity, giving your free time, giving back to the community. Father Crowley asked everyone to care for those in need; a very fine and humbling notion indeed. But Jane bristled when, at his mention of the local care home - a facility for the elderly that used lots of volunteers – she noticed Carla Talucci preening, further down the pew in front, looking far too fucking pleased with herself.

The insufferable woman’s comments weren’t subtle or hard to hear, “Oh yes, we take the time to go twice a week. It’s the least we can do.”

Jane wanted to yank her gaudy, gold hoop earrings from either side of her smug face.

Then the Talucci’s daughter piped up, rubbing the point in further and earning a cynical sneer from the detective, “It’s a family affair. We spend quality time together as we care for those who don’t have a family.” Her tone was condescending and her smile was sweet enough to make Jane throw up a little in her mouth.

Angela sniffed and Jane turned to look at her in horror.

“Ma, don’t -”

She gestured at the pair, watery-eyed, “Why can’t we do that, Janie? Look at them -”

Jane cut in as quietly as she could, “They’re full of shit, that’s why!”

Angela gasped and smacked Jane firmly across the shoulder.

“You know fine well the Talucci’s only care about appearances,” _despite their hideous wardrobe choices offering evidence to the contrary,_ she added mentally. “And we’re not that shallow.” She prodded her mother’s arm with a pointed finger, “ ** _You’re_** not that shallow.” There might have been a barely concealed, somewhat pleading question in there, too.

It was Angela’s turn to huff and fold her arms.

Jane growled under her breath, knowing her argument wouldn’t suffice. Why her Ma wanted to be just like those posers she had no idea. Angela would no doubt hold onto this for a while. It would be ammunition to fire at Jane when she was least prepared, a stink bomb to surreptitiously let off during family dinner, anything to leave a bad taste in her mouth and let her know, once again, what a terrible daughter she was.

oOo

It was just after noon when Frank Rizzoli ambled into the living room holding two frosty beer bottles. Popping both caps and discarding them on the coffee table, he passed one bottle to Casey before falling lazily into his beaten recliner.

He glanced only momentarily away from the television as he explained, “Might as well, son. It’s five o’clock somewhere, right.”

Casey just smiled and tipped the neck of his bottle in thanks.

Frank gulped from his bottle and let out an almighty belch, making Casey chuckle.

“What?”

“Oh, nothing. Just reminded me of Jane, that’s all.”

Frank scoffed. “Never could get her to act like a lady. Gave up on that a long time ago.”

Sipping from his own bottle, Casey had to agree, “Mmm.” She’d always been a tomboy, even when they were at school together. But where most girls mellowed after puberty, Jane had remained stubbornly independent. She was strong and tough and to a soldier it was a turn on to know she could give as good as she got. But there were times he yearned for a softer version of the woman he married; someone more amenable to changing her last name to Jones, someone needing a little protection, someone occasionally vulnerable, delicate and more… feminine.

Something occurred to Frank and he snorted, “You’re lucky she’s not more like her mother, I suppose.” Lofting his almost empty bottle for emphasis, “It’ll take a few more of these to shift the headache Angela gave me before she left.”

“The waitressing worked out though, didn’t it?”

“Oh, sure, that was a great idea,” Frank conceded, though that was obviously not the end of it from the look on his face. He was clearly irritated, “But she’s here all the rest of the time, evenings and weekends, getting on my last nerve and trying to tell me what to do.”

“Thank God for the church, eh?” Casey was proud of his little pun and they both laughed.

Frank shrugged then spoke as if he was just processing thoughts out loud. “Three hours alone. Long enough to watch some sports, not long enough for some **_real_** fun.”

Intrigued but happy to let it pass for the time being, Casey said, “Yeah, well, my problem is not seeing Jane enough. It feels like all she does is work.”

Frank seemed to snap out of his little daydream in order to repeat the same advice he’d given Casey on numerous previous occasions, “Just like Angela, she’s got this funny idea that she’s in charge. I’m telling you, you gotta tell **_her_** how it is. Angela puts on a good show, but she’s all bark and no bite, trust me.”

It was no good, Casey couldn’t contain his curiosity, “And when does the ** _real_** fun start?”

Grinning smugly, Frank leaned in conspiratorially, “Let’s just say, there are advantages to being self-employed and keeping your own hours. You never know when an emergency call out to tend a beautiful blonde’s clogged pipes might pop up.”

Casey’s mouth hung open a little, a hint of a smile present, “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. You wouldn’t believe the trouble Lydia has with her plumbing.” With a wink, Frank rose from his chair as if nothing had happened, as if he hadn’t just transformed before Casey’s very eyes, and as if he was concretely confident that his secret was safe. Sweeping up Casey’s empty bottle as well as his own, he turned toward the kitchen, “I’ll get you another.”

oOo

Detective Barry Frost was deliberating which donut to select from the box being offered by Vince Korsak when Jane strolled into the homicide department of BPD on Monday morning.

“We’re that quiet you’ve got time for breakfast now?” she snorted.

Frost couldn’t respond through a mouthful of chocolate ring but he still gave her a look that said _How dare you!_

She smirked as Korsak set the white cardboard box back on his desk and picked up a manila folder.

Eyeing the extra large coffee Jane was cradling in one hand and stirring with the other, Korsak raised one eyebrow accusingly, “Actually, we just picked up a case. We were waiting for you.”

The brunette took a step back and feigned a look of hurt, before smiling at the grey-haired Sergeant Detective and conceding, “Touché.” She took a seat at her desk opposite Frost, put down her coffee and rapped her palms on the surface. She was ready to go to work. “Okay, what have we got?”

Frost swallowed the last of his donut and mumbled through the napkin that he used to wipe his mouth. “Someone’s killing old folks at the Beechgrove Retirement Home.” He smiled widely at Jane, revealing a blob of chocolate on one front tooth, making her snort with laughter and almost spray coffee all over her desk.

She cupped a hand under her chin to catch any drips, mumbling, “Asshole. Tryin’a kill me, too, huh.”

Korsak took over outlining the case. He enjoyed the joke but his Sergeant cap was firmly in place. He sat down, donned his glasses and read from the file, “There are suspicions of neglect towards the residents. A relative came in this morning to say they think it’s the reason for their father’s death. A background check…” He pointed at Frost who grinned proudly, “… shows there have been several deaths there in the last two months, four others in addition to this one, that were unexpected but nothing suspicious came up at the time. There was nothing untoward recorded in the cause of deaths.” He removed his glasses and looked up at Jane. “But Sean spoke to the doctor on staff there this morning and he has agreed the death rate is unusually high and they’re happy to have us investigate.”

“That’s quite a concession,” Jane chipped in. She had one foot raised up on the opposite knee, her usual laidback posture, tapping a fingernail on the side of her coffee cup. “To have found nothing suspicious but agree to a police investigation right off the bat.”

Frost agreed. “Yeah, usually we come up against snotty doctors who don’t like us implying they made a mistake.”

Korsak tipped his head. They were correct, of course. “All I know is he was fit and well until he was found dead in his room last night. It looks like a heart attack but his medical records say there was nothing wrong with his heart. CSRU are on their way there along with the new Medical Examiner.”

Eyebrows shooting up into her hairline, Jane spun in her chair and asked, “New… what happened to Pike?”

“There’s a rumour…” Frost whispered, leaning over his desk to get closer to Jane. “…that he met someone on vacation in Ft. Lauderdale, a male someone, quit his position last week and got married in New York.”

“But he’s only been gone for three weeks!” she squeaked, her nose scrunched up in disbelief.

“Yep, and he’s not coming back. Apparently this guy’s got a beach front condo somewhere.”

Always the voice of sense and reason, Korsak added, “And let’s be honest, they’re never short of dead bodies in Florida.”

Jane’s lips turned down at that and she nodded, he had a point. And the beach front condo sounded pretty nice, too. She’d flip for dugout seats at the Red Sox; it was only a hop, skip and a jump to the ocean.

Korsak got up and started pinning photos and information on the board behind Jane’s desk. She and Frost hadn’t moved from their seats, contemplating the case and other details.

Frost seemed to read something in Jane’s expression, a sadness maybe, longing, jealousy.

Her brows were scrunched together as her eyes met his and her shoulders rose up to her ears in astonishment, “Not that I’m not glad he’s gone… but, how -?”

She didn’t need to voice the question; he’d been wondering the same thing. After a pause he spoke softly and seriously, “I guess when it happens you just know, y’know.”


	2. Chapter 2

Angela sat in front of her bedroom dressing table, fixing her hair in the mirror. “You could come with me.”

Frank folded in one side of the newspaper he was reading in bed. “I’d love to,” he lied. “But like I said, you never know when a job might turn up. Not to mention the germs.” He flicked his paper back open as Angela turned to look at him. “You don’t want me touching sick people when I’ve had my hands down someone’s soil pipe, do you?”

Angela deflated, “No, I suppose not.” Happy with her appearance she stood to leave. “But it’s such a good cause, I’m sure you’d find it worthwhile taking a day off.”

“No, thank you,” he said firmly. “Someone’s gotta pay the bills, with you deciding to take off willy-nilly.”

She had felt a little guilty about requesting a few days off, after all she’d only had the waitressing job for a few months and though she’d settled in wonderfully, at least as far as the customers were concerned, Mr. Stanley was still a handful.

She was downhearted at having to go alone but determined to show Carla Talucci a thing or two and she was barely out of the room for three seconds when Frank heard her raised voice in the corridor, “It wouldn’t kill you to give something back to the community.”

Huffing against the headboard, he closed his eyes for a second, breathing in patience and exhaling anger. She didn’t hear his acidic response, “The only thing I’d like to give back to this community is all the shit I’ve unclogged from people’s toilets.”

oOo

It wasn’t the nicest place to talk to a grieving relative but Jane had escorted the woman to the most comfortable interview room they had, secured a box of Kleenex for the table, and duly supplied her with a steaming hot cup of coffee.

“I’m sorry to make you go over this again, Ms. Mitchell…” She smiled, “… Barbara. But just so we’re clear…” Jane clasped her hands in her lap and leaned in, trying to be as friendly and comforting as possible. Frost was next to her, pen in hand, ready to take notes. “Your father, Harry Mitchell, was eighty-two, in good health according to you and a resident at Beechgrove Residential Home?”

“Yes,” replied the blonde, fighting a lump in her throat. “A nurse called me late last night. I got here as quickly as I could but I was too late.”

“And what makes you think he died of neglect?”

“I’d been unhappy about his care for a while. They were lazy, the staff, but any complaints I made were ignored. I think they’re just in it for the profits. They don’t care about the residents.”

“So you spoke to someone about his care then?”

The woman nodded and swiped a tissue from the box. “It was lots of little things, y’know. His clothes went missing and then I’d see them on other people, or I’d get there and he’d be wearing someone else’s pyjamas. One time he was almost crying in pain because he’d been waiting two hours to go to the bathroom. He’d get dinner late, like they’d forgotten about him. He told me… he told me how it was rancid and cold.” She sniffed and wiped her nose.

Trying to be delicate but unable to avoid the bigger question, Jane hedged, “Was there anything… more… ** _serious_** that happened that might have put his life at risk?”

The woman looked offended regardless of Jane’s efforts at tact and raised her voice, “No, but… they killed him. I know it!”

Jane turned her head and met Frost’s equally stony gaze. They definitely had something to work with but she hoped, at least for Barbara Mitchell’s sake, that it wasn’t just wishful thinking. For all she knew, even with a belly full of cold slop and wearing someone else’s pyjamas, Harry could simply have met his maker courtesy of natural causes. If that was the case, given the angry tears she was consoling now, Barbara wasn’t going to like it.

oOo

The Beechgrove Retirement Home’s general manager was very accommodating. The petite woman had shown them into her office and proceeded to talk openly, seemingly without any heirs or graces, about the performance of her facility and its staff.

“The Board of Care Quality passed us at our last audit. A cluster of deaths like this is unusual but I’m one hundred percent certain nothing untoward has happened.”

Jane let Frost play bad cop and he scowled fiercely as he asked, “What about the accusations of neglect? We know there have been complaints.”

The woman sighed, like they just didn’t understand what she had to cope with, “Some families are challenging to deal with… high maintenance. Nothing we do for their relative is good enough and it makes for tense times between them and the staff when they visit.”

Jane smiled sweetly, nodding. She could play the good cop really well. It worked like a treat on this particular female and the manager smiled in return, accepting Jane’s fake empathy and looking almost apologetic that she could do nothing to fix the issue. The brunette spoke softly, encouraging co-operation with a brief nod, “We’ll need to see all care plans and speak to your staff.”

The manager held her hands up, eager to get this cleared up, “Of course, I’ll get a nurse to escort you.”

They all stood and filed out into the foyer where a pixie-haired, brunette woman in uniform was approaching.

Already heading their way, an air of self-importance gave Jane the feeling she expected the meeting, but the manager called her name anyway.

“Charlie.” She turned to the detectives and made introductions. “This is our Chief Staff Nurse, Charlie Winter. She’ll show you around.”

As the manager turned and left, the smiling nurse pressed the hand sanitizer dispenser that was mounted on the wall and proceeded to rub her hands very thoroughly.

Jane and Frost waited, watching in silence until Charlie exclaimed and clapped, “Right! I’m all yours.”

oOo

They had spent the entire day talking to staff members. Charlie had escorted them everywhere, made introductions, provided tidbits of information about the centre each time they walked the corridors, and stopped to help other staff with medical procedures here and there. It was as if she was doing orientation with two medical students rather than assisting detectives investigating a possible homicide.

They were finally on their way out when Jane turned a corner and literally bumped into her mother.

“Oh, Janie!” The older Rizzoli gripped her daughter in a fierce hug. “I knew you’d come.”

Frost had come to a stop behind Angela and he smirked as he watched Jane go bog-eyed and mouth _Help me_ as her face was crushed against her mother’s shoulder.

“Oh, Father Crowley’s sermon was so moving; I knew it would have the same effect on you as it had on me.” She let Jane go, shaking her by the biceps before prodding her once in the chest, “You have such a big heart under all that bravado.”

Frost decided he’d take pity on his partner and tried to divert Angela’s attention, “Mrs. Rizzoli, we’re not -”

“What he means to say is…” Jane blurted, halting his well intentioned confession. “We just came to look around.” She considered the suits and badges they still conspicuously wore, “On the way home.” It sounded convincing enough to her own ears.

Angela practically squealed as Frost gave Jane the stink-eye for lying, “But you’re here, Jane, that’s what matters.”

“Yeah.” She smiled sweetly, but as Angela turned away her eyes widened and she jerked a throat-slitting motion with her hand. A grunt and a stomp of her foot told Frost to put a sock in it before his big mouth got her in trouble. She was gonna make the best of a bad situation.

“Well let me know next time and we can come together!” Jane didn’t have a chance to argue or decline as Angela was already shuffling backwards away down the corridor, shucking a thumb over her shoulder, “I gotta go, sweetie. I promised Mr. Balls a bed bath before dinner.”

Frost was snickering loudly into the fist pressed to his mouth as Jane waved glumly at her retreating mother. With a fake smile still plastered on her face she sung quietly without moving her mouth, “Have fun washing Mr Balls’ wrinkly balls!”

Frost laughed out loud and clapped her on the shoulder. “One of these days you’ll stand up to her.”

Angela had disappeared into a side room but Jane continued to stare off down the corridor. Absently she said, “I will,” but her head was tilted to the side, her attention caught by somebody else.

It was the legs she noticed first; strong, shapely, bare legs. No one she’d met today had been dressed like that and she doubted anyone finishing their shift would bother to redress in such a manner just for the trip home. She elbowed Frost in the ribs and jerked her head in the gorgeous blonde’s direction.

Frost squinted as the woman turned side on, a large black medical case held firmly at her side.

The woman was talking to someone, giving instructions, or granting permission, something that gave her an air of authority. With a flick of her hair the woman turned to look up the corridor.

“Oh, wow,” breathed Frost as the two detectives appeared to be recognised. “Is that Dr. Isles?”

The woman was already walking purposefully this way, her towering high heels clicking on the sterile floor. Jane grinned as the familiar, smiling face got closer and closer, “Yeah, it is.”


	3. Chapter 3

Maura came to a stop in front of the detectives and dipped her head in greeting, “Jane, Barold.”

Frost felt the tension and decided bold action was the only way to break it. He reached in for a hug, squeezing the slim blonde gently. “Nice to see you again, Dr. Isles.”

Maura clutched at him with one arm, relaxing into the familiarity of an old friend and continuing to smile in Jane’s direction.

Jane smiled back and then rubbed at her chin, chuckling, “Doesn’t take a genius to work out who our new Medical Examiner is, eh, **_Barold_**?”

Frost released Maura and she stepped forward to embrace Jane, too. Dark curls tickled her face and she closed her eyes for a moment as several years worth of memories came flooding back.

Frost smirked as Maura let go and stepped back, “It’s been too long, Doc.”

“Yes, well -”

He was bouncing a little on the balls of his feet, excitement oozing from his pores, “Are you here for the Mitchell case?”

“I, er, yes. It’s my first official case since I moved back to Boston.”

Maura’s phrasing caused Jane’s detective spidey senses to ping, and she raised a questioning eyebrow, “Official?”

Maura tipped her head from side-to-side, a little quirk that Jane always found to be cute, “I was contemplating relocation anyway, so when the position came up suddenly I took it. I’ve worked on several BPD cases recently as a consultant; they’re familiar with me and vice versa.” She shrugged as if it was no big deal. “It seemed the best option.”

Jane was a little taken aback. It was news to her that Maura still had links to the department, though not very surprising she supposed; Maura was the best in the state, the best in any state probably.

“Very logical,” said Frost with a firm nod. “So where are you staying? Need a ride anywhere? We were just leaving.”

“Oh, no, thank you.” She was almost embarrassed to explain, “My mother is staying with me; she wanted to make sure I was settled and she arranged a car.” This wasn’t the time to go into detail about exactly how much her mother has done for her over the last three weeks, but just the mention of the car sounded overly privileged to her ears.

Maura lifted a hand to Jane’s elbow and indicated she should step aside to let someone pass.

It was the elder Talucci woman that sauntered past and continued to stride down the corridor like she owned the fucking building. The gaudy hoop earrings remained along with a plethora of other jingling costume jewellery that Jane was certain wasn’t conducive to properly caring for the elderly and infirm. The brunette sneered as Carla’s swaying ass disappeared around a corner and she mentally cursed the effortless way in which the woman could manipulate Angela like a mindless sheep.

“How’s Ian? Jane asked without thinking. Maura hadn’t mentioned him, hadn’t implied his presence in Boston at all, but her preoccupation with Carla and Angela had caused Jane to only realise this a second after she’d spoken.

“He’s, er…” The blonde adjusted the case she was carrying, gripping the handle in front of her with two hands. The doctor was never very good at covering up the truth but she could evade it like a pro. “He’s – I don’t know, we’re not together anymore.”

“Oh.” Jane looked apologetic but Maura waved her off.

“How’s Casey?” asked the blonde, sounding genuinely interested.

“Oh, he’s fine. He’s home at the moment, has been for a while.” The brunette waved a dismissive hand and shrugged, leaving Maura with a slightly concerned look, “Not much to tell, really.”

“Well,” she brightened. “Maybe we can catch up sometime?”

“Yeah,” Jane nodded, smiling. “I’d like that.”

“Me too!” shouted Frost, beaming and throwing his arms out. He gripped both women in a group bear hug, making them giggle until Jane tried to wriggle free and swatted at him with flailing hands.

“Get off me, you big dork.”

oOo

Back at the precinct, Jane and Frost relayed the results of their staff interviews to Korsak.

Jane concluded by saying, “Basically we need to identify the key residents to interview. They’re potential witnesses, but reliability will be a problem as some of them suffer from dementia or Alzheimer’s, that kind of thing.”

Frost added, “There are a lot of them to get through.”

Korsak sighed, glancing at the wall clock. There was no way he could send them back over there this late in the day, they would never make it home tonight. “I’ll clear it with the manager and we’ll go back there tomorrow.”

“We should get CSRU to take prints and swabs in case we need them later, kill two birds with one stone,” Frost suggested.

A nod from Korsak had him picking up the handset of his desk phone to make arrangements before they left for the day. The older man turned to Jane, “We’ve got to analyse those other recent deaths. But I can’t help thinking it may just be a natural spike given the fact most residents have serious medical conditions.”

Jane stared off into the distance, restless fingers fiddling with a ballpoint pen on her desk. “I’ve got a gut feeling, though, Vince. That senior nurse that showed us around, there’s just something about her, like… she’s too perfect y’know. Everything she did and said was for effect, showing us how good she was at her job.”

“Some people take pride in their work,” he scoffed.

“No, I know, it just… it’s like the hand gel thing.” At his confused expression she explained, “When we were done talking to the manager and the nurse came to show us round she did this thing with the sanitizer, cleaning her hands with the stuff… but it was like a goddamn demonstration. Normal people don’t do that, do they?” She looked up at Korsak, searching for a little understanding in his eyes.

The older detective considered her for a moment, before tipping his head in concession. “Maybe,” he said almost cryptically.

Jane shuddered slightly, “I got a bad feeling about her anyway. Creeped me out.”

oOo

Maura and Constance worked around each other in easy silence, making dinner in Maura’s kitchen.

Constance rinsed and chopped vegetables and herbs by the sink as Maura tended the pans on the stovetop. Every now and then Maura would retrieve more ingredients and switch out full bowls for used empty ones that Constance would then wash.

Constance had caught an unusually contemplative look on her daughter’s face once or twice. She hoped it had nothing to do with Ian; it had taken months to pull Maura out of herself after that fiasco. She wanted to make sure her daughter was okay. “How was your first day back, darling?”

“Fine,” she said automatically. Then, “Good, actually. I ran into Jane today.”

“Oh?”

“The case that came in this morning is a possible homicide.”

“Ah,” Constance nodded, remembering clearly the _very_ early morning call Maura had received. “You knew you’d bump into her eventually.”

“She says hi. And she looks great!” Though that wasn’t the whole story, the doctor wasn’t certain enough about it to mention the sadness she’d caught behind Jane’s eyes.

“I’m glad,” Constance said simply, her eyes and tone softening sufficiently to convey to Maura the many permutations of her meaning. _I’m glad your day went well, I’m glad Jane’s okay, I’m glad you might get your friend back._

Maura smiled and returned to stirring the contents of her pan but Constance caught a glint there, a tiny spark of something that she’d only seen once before. It had nothing to do with Ian.

oOo

Jane was busy getting dressed in a button-up shirt and pant suit. She could feel her husband’s eyes burning into the back of her head. Turning to the side and shucking on her boots she grunted, “What?”

Casey watched her stand up and clip her badge, cellphone and gun holster onto her belt. “Nothing,” he mumbled.

Her arms flailed out at the sides of her body before flattened palms slapped the outside of her thighs, “You’re looking at me like I pissed on the dog. There must be something.”

He waved a lazy hand in her direction from his prone position on the bed, “It’s just… it’s not the best look for you.”

“You’re gonna give me shit about how I dress now, too?” Angela had nagged and whined on so many occasions about adding frilly skirts and floral fabrics to her wardrobe. It was a never-ending battle to make her appear more womanly. Menacingly, she leaned over him, “How… **_exactly_** … do you expect me to dress for my job?”

“It’s just a bit… butch, that’s all.”

She squeaked in astonishment, “And fatigues aren’t? What’s the fucking difference? This is my uniform. I’ve dressed like this every day since you met me!”

“Don’t get upset, baby,” he placated patronisingly. “I’m just saying… you could switch the shirts for like, I dunno… a v-neck tee or something and it wouldn’t look quite so…”

She’d heard enough. Grabbing her wallet off the dresser, she couldn’t get out of there fast enough. “There are many things I **_could_** wear instead of this suit, too, Casey.” She smiled snidely, anger burning in the pit of her stomach, sarcasm fuelling her like caffeine, her yelling rant underlined by the slamming of her bedroom door, “But if I wore that tiny, crotchless, tasteless excuse for an outfit you bought me on my last birthday then where would I put my fucking gun?”

oOo

Jane leaned over her desk and snatched the manila file out of Frost’s hands. They had spent the morning going over the last few staff interviews from the day before as well as figuring out their game plan but now they had an autopsy report to work with.

She sat back and read the file silently, chewing on a fingernail, as Frost informed Korsak of the results, “Dr. Isles confirmed Harry Mitchell’s body was dehydrated and covered in bruises; seems to confirm the daughter’s suspicions of neglect. Not only that, she found a needle mark on his arm. It took her a while to find it ‘cause it was on a liver spot or mole or something, not easy to see and definitely not a place you would normally place an injection. Whoever did it tried to cover their tracks.”

“And he wasn’t given anything as part of his standard treatment?” asked Korsak.

Frost shook his head, “Nothing on record and all the blood tests came back; nothing in his system. But cause of death right now is still a heart attack.”

Jane spoke without looking up from the file, “His heart was in a good condition, his records said so and Maura confirmed it.” When she looked up it was to find two sets of eyes peering at her questioningly. “I called her on the way in.”

“Ah,” breathed Frost. “Figures.”

“She said something stopped his heart, possibly potassium chloride.” She didn’t admit to that being her guess and not Maura’s, since the blonde had point blank refused to speculate on the substance responsible.

“Would that do it?” asked Frost, looking to the older detective.

“It’s been used before,” Korsak nodded. “There was a case like this back in oh-six, mercy killings.”

“Oh, yeah,” Jane snapped her fingers. “Lakeview Hospital.”

Nonchalantly, Korsak added, “They use it in lethal injections on death row.”

Frost was rubbing his chin, exasperated, “We still have no motive, nothing to even connect all the recent deaths together.”

“At this rate, Maura will want to exhume the other bodies.” Jane chuckled as Frost blanched at the thought.

“Once we’re done with witnesses, you two need to formally interview the nurses that were on shift when Harry Mitchell died,” added Korsak.

“Everyone we spoke to said the Chief Staff Nurse, Charlie, is wonderful; couldn’t praise her enough. One young nurse in particular, Rachel, went all misty-eyed when we talked about her, it was weird.”

Frost was frantically pressing computer keys. When his search concluded he looked at Korsak and Jane in turn, “Charlie and Rachel were **_both_** on duty during four of the five recent deaths.”

“Well then,” exclaimed Korsak. “Complaints or no complaints, the neglect aspect will have to wait until we clear this homicide.” Jane and Frost were already moving, grabbing suit jackets from the back of their chairs and stuffing keys into their pockets as the Sergeant ordered, “You know where to start. Get going.”


	4. Chapter 4

Interviewing the residents of Beechgrove Retirement Home on Tuesday was difficult at best. Many were confused or intimidated by the detectives’ presence, some were totally unresponsive, and a few had taken a shine to Jane and spent the best part of the morning trying to convince her to date their grandson… or granddaughter. The rest were just glad of some company and happily chatted away about various topics, none of them relevant to the case and none of it helpful.

They’d split up after a while, working their way through the rooms of two separate wings, in agreement that they’d save time and hopefully their sanity.

Jane was talking to a rather camp seventy-eight year old, Edward Bannister, when young nurse Rachel bustled into the room with a small metal cart.

Edward eyed her with a sneer and she visibly cowed. He made a little effort to lower his voice as he spoke to Jane but it was calculated and malicious and the nurse could still hear everything, “Have you seen the size of the thighs on that?”

Jane’s mouth hung open in shock. She turned to look at the young nurse but the girl was intently focused on counting out pills into a tiny cup. Admittedly the girl was chubby, but she was far from obese and certainly not deserving of the unprovoked comment.

The nurse placed the cup on the bedside table and simply said, “Here’s your medication, Eddie.” Her eyes didn’t lift from the floor and Jane’s heart ached a little at her obvious lack of self-esteem.

Ignoring her, the old man folded his arms with a flourish and sniped, “I told you weeks ago you should join weight watchers… or a gym. It’ll help with all the cellulite you’re carrying around on your ass.”

The young girl shuffled back out of the room, a trolley wheel squeaking as she retreated, and Jane pointed a finger in the direction of the door before jabbing it towards the resident. “I don’t think that was really necessary, do you?”

He wasn’t in the least bit intimidated by Jane’s stern attitude. He just laughed and stuck his chin out in defiance. “Oh, please, honey. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Eddie was fast becoming the bitchiest old queen Jane had ever come across and she could feel a vein pounding in her right temple.

“They’re all sweetness and light one minute and then the next…” He shoved up the sleeve of his shirt and bared his left forearm, revealing vivid mulberry patches amidst stark white skin. Leaning forward, he whispered, “I didn’t do this to myself, darlin’.” Jane’s mind was a swirl of questions as he covered his arm and breathed a huge sigh. He seemed to soften suddenly, losing the bravado and forced persona that had dominated the first ten minutes of his interview, “Complaints have been ignored time and time again, so many of them have been accused of crying wolf, and those are the ones with family visitors…” His expression turned sad, teary almost. “What chance do the rest of us have?”

Jane had always thought bullying to be inexcusable, but suddenly she wanted a piece of Rachel too, and the rest of the staff for that matter. It was quickly becoming evident that something disgusting was going on here, and she was going to get to the bottom of it.

After chatting for a little while longer, she shook Eddie’s hand and thanked him for his time, keen to find Frost and get this investigation hurried along.

She strode the length of the corridor checking her cellphone for messages but soon a familiar voice stopped her in her tracks. Desperately looking for an escape route she jerked from foot to foot, dashing left and right, turning back and forth. Annoyingly, there wasn’t a single room in the vicinity in which she could feasibly hide. Ridiculously, she considered plastering her thin frame tightly to the nearest wall in the hope that her grey suit would camouflage her against the drab décor of the facility but the notion was dismissed a second later as Angela turned the corner and immediately spotted her eldest child.

“Oh my god, Jane!” She broke into a little run in order to fling herself at the brunette. “I didn’t think you’d come back so soon. Have they been keeping you busy?”

Too exasperated to set Angela straight once again, she nodded and gestured with her cellphone back down the corridor, “I was with Eddie, but I was just leaving.”

Angela pulled a face, “Bit nasty that one by all accounts.”

“Yeah, well -” Jane wasn’t in the mood for her mother’s gossip-based opinions.

“They’re not all like that. Some of these old folks are as sweet as pie. You’ll get to know them all eventually if you keep showing up.” She was giddy with excitement and tried to go in for another hug.”

Jane stepped back just as her phone started to ring and she began to walk away the instant she saw the name on the screen, “I really have to go, Ma.” She waved the phone in the air, “Duty calls.”

Angela called to her, raising her voice to be heard, “Let me know if you’ll be here tomorrow. We can carpool!”

Jane waved over her shoulder without looking back as she pressed the green button, “Hey, Maura.”

_“Hi, Jane. I was just calling to invite you and Casey to dinner… at my house, if you still want to catch up. I was thinking about how great it was to see you and I didn’t want to leave it too long.”_

“Oh, sure. That would be great.” She squeezed her eyes shut in excitement.

_“Would Thursday be okay?”_

“Er, yeah. Yes,” she corrected, remembering all the times her Nonna had told her to enunciate properly. “But Casey’s busy Thursday night so it would just be me.”

_“Actually, mother offered to cook, if you’re okay with it being the three of us?”_

Trying not to sound too eager and failing miserably, she blurted, “No, no, that’s fine. Should I bring anything?”

_“Just your appetite. She’s trying out some new recipes so there’s bound to be more food than we need.”_

Jane chuckled, she had a mother just like that, “Okay, well, thanks, Maura.”

_“It’s my pleasure. See you soon, Jane.”_

Jane ended the call and slid the cellphone back into the holster. Finding Frost chatting with a nurse in the foyer came as a relief and she let out a big sigh as he approached.

Groaning, she gestured toward the exit, “At this point I don’t even care if you’re done. We’re leaving before I do something I might regret.”

Chuckling, he headed for the door, holding it open for her to leave, “I’m right there with you partner.”

She stopped just inside the door, oblivious to Bella Talucci lurking in the corner of the foyer reading a magazine, “Is it just me, or is there a lot of ** _really_** gay people in this place?”

Frost snorted, she didn’t know the half of it. Amused, he offered dramatically, “If you ask me, there’s something in the water.”

Jane didn’t speak again until they were buckled up in the car and Frost asked, “So you didn’t have any luck either, then?”

“I don’t know that you’d call it luck exactly. But yeah I got something of interest.” That piqued his curiosity and he twisted in his seat, giving his undivided attention as Jane told the tale of Rachel and Eddie.

They were only half way back to BPD, having driven the last few minutes in silence, when Frost cleared his throat and tentatively asked his partner, “Did I ever tell you about my mom?”

oOo

Back at the retirement home, Bella Talucci walked the corridor swiftly, heeled sandals clipping loudly on the linoleum, searching for her mother. She found the older woman in a side room, gossiping with an elderly woman who was sporting an impressively gaudy purple rinse. Gesturing for her mother step outside for a moment, Bella smiled sweetly at the octogenarian and spoke far more loudly than was necessary, “Excuse us, Edna. I just need a word with my mother.”

Carla was bustled a little way up the corridor after she left the room, her daughter more cautious about eavesdroppers than the detectives had patently been. “You know what you were saying about those people -”

“What people?” Carla whispered, wondering what had her daughter so on edge.

Urgency in her voice, Bella rushed, “Like Eddie and the manager and – and that old hag down the hall, Bertha; the ones that are…” She spoke through clenched teeth, her lips unmoving, “… ** _that way_**.”

Carla leaned in, “What about them?”

“Well, I suspect they’re not the only ones.”

Carla’s eyebrows lifted at that, her top lip curled in disgust. There were more of them than she realised before coming here and she almost wished she was still in the dark about the people that were… _that way_. Their strange habits and abnormal proclivities should be kept behind closed doors in her opinion. But the temptation for juicy gossip was just too strong. This might be better than hearing about Edna’s estranged daughter-in-law and her battles with alcohol. “Really?”

Matching her mother’s horrified expression, Bella added, “And I think I know why.”

Startled, Carla asked, “What do you mean?”

Keeping her voice low, Bella squeaked, “There’s something in the water!”

“What?!”

“I overheard the detectives talking about it. Something… something about the water. Maybe that’s why they’re here investigating. Maybe… what if it’s spreading? What if it isn’t just the water at the centre that’s…” She swallowed uncomfortably, “… tainted.”

Carla was speechless for long seconds before breathing out, “We have to warn people.”

oOo

Dinner at the Rizzoli house was a noisy affair, as always. Frankie and Tommy yelled and tussled in front of the television as Frank bellowed at them to cut it out, Casey tinkered in the driveway, trying to get Frank’s plumbing truck running again, and Jane helped Angela in the kitchen.

The women were getting ready to carry an assortment of steaming bowls through to the dining table when Angela turned and yanked her daughter’s baseball cap from her head. “And you can take this off before you sit at the table.”

“Hey!” Jane shrieked, snatching the hat back. “Don’t touch the merchandise.”

Angela tipped a pan of red sauce over a mountain of pasta, “It’s filthy. It needs to go in the trash.”

Jane gasped, affronted, “How dare you! This is vintage.”

“Vintage?” laughed Angela. “It’s falling apart!”

Jane squeezed and moulded the peak in her hands. “It’s older than I am, granted, but it’s a valuable collector’s item. It’s… softened and… broken in. I got it at that antique sporting goods store that just opened.”

“You’re ridiculous, you know that?” Angela chuckled.

Jane grabbed a bowl in each hand and turned to leave. “I resemble that remark.”

Angela shuddered, grabbing two bowls of her own and following behind. “God knows how many sweaty heads have been in that thing.”

Rolling her eyes, Jane entered the dining room and plonked the bowls heavily onto the table. “See, here’s the thing…” Turning back to her mother, hand on her hip and leaning in with a whisper, “… I don’t care!”

Angela gave no warning as she yelled not six inches from Jane’s ear, “DINNER’S READY!”

The men filed in as Jane took a seat, grimacing at the sight and mumbling _Jesus Christ_ under her breath. The younger Rizzoli males jostled for seats, pulling on each other’s basketball shirts, wafting the smell of their sweaty armpits across the room. Frank followed in a greying white vest and sweatpants that had seen better days, the elastic waistband drooping obscenely to reveal a butt crack that made Jane close her eyes and screw her face up in disgust. Then finally, Casey entered, wiping filthy hands on an oil-spattered cloth, his borrowed coveralls tattered and torn from collar to ankles.

The unfairness of the situation galled her the most and Jane elbowed her mother with one arm while the other swept a hand out over the table, gesturing to the males as she gave her a pointed look that said _Really?_

When Angela looked confused, she gave up, shook her head despondently and turned her attention to the food.

It didn’t take long for the sounds of serving spoons hitting plates to stop and the sounds of conversation to start. Jane groaned to herself when the subject of work came up.

Frank grumbled about work drying up and Casey made an awful joke how that can’t be good for someone who works with water most of the time. Frankie was enthusiastic about becoming a beat cop and Jane winced internally at the thought of her mother nagging twice as much about it being too dangerous. Tommy was _still_ looking for regular employment, but apparently he had a mysterious friend that had just come out of the woodwork and offered him a temporary house-painting gig. Martinez busted that kid for drugs two weeks ago but Jane bit the inside of her cheek and kept quiet; she planned to warn Tommy off later, in private. She might not like him sometimes but she loved him enough to not have Angela go ballistic at him over the spaghetti.

When someone asked about her latest case – she had been so zoned out staring unseeingly at a bowl of untouched green beans to notice who’s voice had spoken – she just shrugged and mumbled, “Oh, same old same old… dead person… shouldn’t be dead… find out whodunit.”

Then she had a revelation, something to shift the focus a little, “Oh hey, I did find out something interesting though… Frost has two moms.”

The sound of cutlery hitting china echoed through the room and several jaws dropped.

“Too many people getting divorced these days,” Frank piped up.

Frankie jumped in, snorting through a mouthful of food, “There’s this guy at the academy, got like three stepmoms or something ‘cause his dad gets bored every five years and marries somebody else.”

Tommy laughed, slapping the table and Angela mumbled _Don’t be ridiculous_ as Jane tried to make her point, “No, not like that. His mom’s gay, married a woman.”

“Now you’re being ridiculous,” Frank sniped.

Jane was confused, “What’s the big deal?”

“Sounds a bit bizarre to me,” inserted Casey. “Can’t be normal, can it?”

Jane’s eyebrows drew together, worried about the turn this seemed to be taking, “Normal?”

“Well,” Angela drawled. “She’s not his mother, is she, not really. He must still have a father?”

Stunned at the negative reactions, Jane kicked herself for bringing it up. “In the Navy,” she said absently, prodding a fork at the food on her plate.

“There you go!” exclaimed Casey. “Still takes a mom and a dad to bring up a kid.”

“Quite right,” added Frank.

Facing an entire circle of opposition, Jane lacked the courage to tell them that actually Frost’s father had never been around much and his moms had, in fact, brought him up from being very young. _And very well_ , she thought, to be more precise. She should have said what she was thinking, defended him, argued equality and logic and _what the hell is normal anyway?_ for him and his unconventional family. The fact that she didn’t made her feel downright sick.

As Angela started clearing empty plates from the table and Frank stood up to leave, she grabbed him by the forearm and batted her eyelashes, “You couldn’t grab all that stuff out of the trunk for me, could you?”

“I thought you managed all the groceries earlier?” he asked.

“I brought in the bags. Couldn’t manage the five cases of bottled water, though.” The look on his face was priceless and she swatted him with a tea towel. “Oh, don’t give me that. I just don’t want to drink the tap water right now, that’s all.”

“Yeah,” Tommy jumped in, waving his hands about. “She’s got some mad idea that it’s like… tainted by the devil, or something.”

Frankie laughed on his way out of the room, “She’s crazy.”

Angela looked seriously at Jane, still sat at the table almost in a trance. “I wouldn’t be…” she pointed from her daughter to Casey and back again. “… If I had a bunch of grandbabies to occupy my time.”


	5. Chapter 5

She tugged on the silk belt, releasing its hold around her waist before slipping the floral robe from her shoulders. She hung it on the back of the bedroom door and padded across the plush carpet to the bed, feeling its softness push between her bare toes.

Settling under the covers and turning out the bedside light, her mind was a whirling storm of thoughts that wouldn’t let her rest.

It was too much, this house; far too big for one person. She’d said so at the time but her mother wouldn’t hear of it, taking so much of a shine to it Maura thought Constance might, in fact, never leave.

She had her own home office now, a necessity of course, if one was being practical, sensible. And a workout room, a little luxury that would save her gym fees, though there was something to be said for the companionship a class offered she supposed. There had been space for a large dining table, duly filled, since Constance’s motto was _You just never know, darling_ but she’d yet to set a place for one.

But it was the back porch swing that had sold it to her, no matter how much Constance had swooned over the kitchen and open plan living space.

There wasn’t a garden to speak of; she’d never had any aspirations in that area, but several containers and flower boxes, mainly by the front and back door gave it a little life, a little colour that brightened her mood every time she came and went.

The whole thing had been a blur really. The sale went through in two days after Constance secured a pricey lawyer, supplied the cash, and talked on the phone at all hours making arrangements. The decorators had been in and out inside of a week. The furniture delivery men and contractors were equally efficient, hustled and harassed half to death by the formidable, orchestrating Isles woman.

She was glad, of course, and grateful. Constance had done so much for her, much more than she thought a grown child might deserve after everything…

Flipping the bedside lamp back on, Maura reached over and dragged the drawer open below it. Taking out a handful of small photos she sat back against the pillows and pulled the duvet up. It wasn’t cold tonight, outside or inside, but she wrapped herself up in it just the same, sheltering.

She flipped through the first few photos quickly, smiling at memories long since past. Pausing on one in particular, she gazed for a long minute before stroking a fingertip down its surface. The doctor’s own face smiled back, beaming, eyes sparkling and one big dimple on her cheek offering a falsely youthful glow, but her finger lingered on the woman next to her. She was about Maura’s own height with dark hair, an intense, brooding air about her with equally dark, burning eyes set under low eyebrows. She seemed to hold a great weight despite the smile she reflected back at Maura.

Something inside told her enough was enough, she’d come too far to dwell further and she flipped the photo to the back of the pile.

The next photograph was much older, of her and Jane this time, one she didn’t recall having seen in a very long time. Their closeness wasn’t much different at first glance and it caused a sharp stab in Maura’s chest. She recognised the same relationship… friendship, in each photo, but where the previous shot had an arm slung around Maura’s waist, this one had an arm slung around her shoulders to account for Jane’s height. Their hips weren’t quite touching either, so that was another difference. She studied hard, scrutinised every minute detail, searching out more differences. There were bound to be more. There had to be.

She slammed the stack back on the bedside table with a huff and turned off the light. Her head fell back onto the pillow with a thud and she threw an arm over her moist eyes. It was her own fault, she knew, but she’d give up her jacuzzi bath right now for a full night’s sleep.

oOo

With her hip propped against the counter and her cellphone held to one ear, Angela was keeping her eye on the customers that occupied a few tables around the little café. With her free hand on the other hip, she nodded, “Well, that’s what I said, Carla. Frank will just have to deal with it.” She turned to mouth thanks to someone leaving their empties on the front counter on their way out. “It’s no worse than all the money he spends on beer. Better to be safe than sorry.” She fished into the oversize front pocket of her green apron, retrieving a damp cloth and wiping some crumbs from the counter by the cash register. “Well, I’m more convinced than ever that your Bella is right about the water. It does seem to be spreading. Hold on...” She quickly hid her phone, covering the lit screen with her palm as Mr. Stanley exited the rear kitchen and made his way out from behind the counter.

He pointed to the exit on his way past the glass display case and Angela gave a full, fake smile, “We need more stock from the storeroom.”

The second he was out of earshot she continued, “Sometimes it’s the ones you least expect that are… **_that way_**. You’d never think to look at him that he had two moms.” She shook her head, “What?… Lucky your kids aren’t that way? Yeah, well, I don’t know if I’d go that far, Carla.” She laughed, “Leaving town would be a bit drastic but I see what you mean.”

oOo

A uniformed BPD parking attendant tipped his cap at the brunette and smiled as she mounted the kerb, “Morning, Rizzoli.”

“Carl,” she nodded politely.

He threw his arms out at his side as she climbed away up the steps to the precinct’s main entrance, “What, no good morning kiss today?”

She snorted a laugh, “Dream on, pal.”

He called to her from the sidewalk, “One of these days you’ll come to your senses, gorgeous.”

She raised one eyebrow and grinned over her shoulder, “I’m sure I will.”

Frost was waiting for her at the door, holding it open, “You know you broke that poor man’s heart when you got married, right?”

She thumped him in the arm as she passed, “Put a sock in it.”

“Ow!” He chuckled and rubbed his bicep exaggeratedly, following her all the way into the café.

Angela spotted the detectives approaching and ended her call as quickly as she could, stowing it in her apron pocket and offering a welcoming smile.

“Hey, Ma.”

Angela was already gathering the necessary cups and coffee pot, “Hi, sweetheart. The usual?”

“Please.” Frost’s cellphone rang and he answered it. “And three brownies please,” she added. Frost silently mouthed something, indicating he needed to take the call outside and she whispered, “Go. I got this.”

“You tell Vince, if he’s eating brownies on a Wednesday he won’t get his usual Friday treat. If that man dies of a heart attack he’ll wish he listened to me.”

“Um, they’re for me,” she lied and Angela lifted a knowing eyebrow, unconvinced.

Angela set down a white cardboard box and two large coffees on the counter at precisely the same time as Jane realised she’d forgotten her wallet.

“Oh, sh – shoot!”

Jane’s guilty grin said all Angela needed to know. It wasn’t the first time she’d bent the rules for her eldest child. She rolled her eyes, “I’ll add it to what you already owe me.” She shooed Jane away from the counter, breakfast in hand, “Go on. Get. Before Mr. Stanley comes back.”

Jane batted her eyelashes and then leaned in over the counter to peck a cheek, “Thanks, Ma. I love you.”

Angela swatted at her with the cloth from her apron, “Yeah, yeah.”

oOo

Frost jogged up behind Jane as she waited for the elevator. He waved his cellphone, “Sorry about that.” He gratefully accepted one of the cups just as the doors opened. They boarded and he pressed the button for the homicide floor. He gestured with the steaming cup, “And thanks for this.”

Jane chuckled as something occurred to her, “You know my mother’s crazy, right?”

He smiled, “What did she do now?”

“She bought a million bottles of water and refuses to drink from the tap.”

He scoffed, amused, “Why?”

“’Cause she’s under the impression there might be… **_something in the water_** …” She raised an accusing eyebrow, “Now where might she have heard a silly idea like that?”

Frost’s mouth hung open, “You’re not serious? But, how -”

“How’d it get back to her? I dunno.” Jane couldn’t help roll her eyes and make grand sweeping gestures with the box she was carrying, it was all so ridiculous, “‘Cause she’s head of the East Coast fucking gossip brigade.”

Frost’s eyebrows were drawn together as he tried to figure something out, and as the elevator halted he said “That wasn’t a serious comment, though.”

Stepping off and into the corridor she stressed, “I know that, and you know that. But whoever overheard us is obviously missing a few brain cells and doesn’t have a life!”

Frost was shaking his head, chuckling, as they entered the homicide area. “I can’t believe she really freaked out about the water.”

Jane placed her items on her desk and sighed wearily. Suddenly, the horrible dinner episode came to mind, “She means well… most of the time. I just wish she had her own mind sometimes, y’know.”

Placing his jacket on the back of his chair, Frost sat down opposite her and popped the lid off his coffee.

Jane plopped down into her chair and waved her arms around, frustrated, “Instead, she believes everything she hears at church, or overhears from a bunch of gossiping, bored… stupid, sex-less, middle-aged -”

The snap of Frost’s head and the grin on his face teased _But, Jane, you’re bored, sex-less and middle-aged_.

Before he opened his mouth to speak she gave him a death glare that warned _Don’t you fucking dare!_

oOo

Chief Staff Nurse, Charlie Winter, sat straight-backed in the hard metal chair of a BPD interview room, her standard green uniform replaced with casual street clothes.

Detective Rizzoli sat on the other side of the table, hands clasped atop a manila case file. “As you’re aware, Ms. Winter, we’re investigating the death of Harry Mitchell. We have reason to believe he suffered some physical abuse before he died. Would you know anything about that?”

“No,” she answered, without hesitation. “I don’t know how anyone could harm an elderly person. It’s a tough job, what we do. Most people don’t realise. But we put up with all the gripes and complaints about standards of care because we do our best.” She took a drink from the cup of water that Jane had set down on the table when they’d first sat down. “We’re not perfect all the time and budget cuts make things extra difficult.”

Jane leaned in, “In what way?”

“Look, I love my job. We all do. There is no greater reward, y’know. But the trainees have it bad; its twelve hour shifts on minimum wage. They don’t get the support they need and it’s… hard.

“Is Rachel one of the trainees?” She opened the file and double-checked the name. “Rachel Deakin.”

Charlie smiled, briefly, “Yes, though she’s not one of the better ones.”

“Oh?”

With some reluctance, she offered, “She’s harmless enough but she’s a bit dim. Nice girl, really, not a malicious bone in her body, but…”

“But?” Jane coaxed.

“She does make a lot of mistakes.”

Jane looked convinced enough. “So, are you saying… Rachel Deakin was incompetent and that could have lead to someone’s death?”

The nurse gave a measured nod. “Yeah.”

The detective smiled politely and stood to leave, “Excuse me for a minute.”

oOo

Exiting into the corridor and turning to open the next door along, Jane found Vince Korsak watching Charlie Winter through the two-way mirror.

She sidled up beside him and folded her arms. “I know she’s implicating Rachel but there’s something not right about her.”

“She’s very charming,” added Korsak. “Saying all the right things. Exactly what we want to hear.”

Jane murmured in agreement, “Told you… creepy.”

He shrugged a shoulder, pointing out the obvious, “ ** _That_** doesn’t prove anything.”

Jane sniffed, “I still think she did it.” Then after a pause, “Remind me to never put my parents in a home.”

Korsak snorted just as Frost tapped on the door and stuck his head in. “Someone mailed a memory stick to BPD. Crime lab says it’s for our case!”

oOo

All of the large video screens were playing in the Boston Regional Intelligence Centre. Frost controlled the feed via the computer, Korsak had sat behind him and Jane had perched on the edge of the one remaining free desk.

Frost had wasted no time checking the contents of the memory stick once it had been brought up. He’d raced downstairs to fetch his colleagues only minutes later. They’d gotten barely inside the BRIC behind him when he’d hit play and announced, “It would appear, ladies and germs, that there was a hidden camera somewhere in the victim’s room.”

Jane flinched and Korsak screwed up his face at the sight and sound of the young nurse, Rachel Deakin, forcefully slapping an elderly man across the face.

The video stopped, turning the screen to black, and Frost spun in his chair, “We’re heading back to Beechgrove then?”

“Seems straightforward to me,” Korsak offered. “Go arrest her for assault.”

Jane jumped off the desk energetically, grinning at Frost, “This time I’m driving.”


	6. Chapter 6

Standing imposingly tall and stiff, hands clasped formally by her belt buckle, Detective Rizzoli read Rachel Deakin her rights as Frost snapped a pair of metal handcuffs around her wrists.

Frost turned the girl by the shoulders, indicating they were ready to leave, when she asked, “Do I get to collect my stuff? I want my purse.”

Jane turned to the facility’s manager, who had escorted them in and silently witnessed the arrest, “Where do the nurses keep their belongings?”

“There’s a locker room down the hall,” she pointed.

“Do you have a key?”

“No, it’s a combination lock.”

Jane turned back to the suspect, “I’ll get your purse for you.” She looked at her colleague to confirm he was happy with her actions, “You will wait here with Detective Frost.”

“I’ll show you where it is,” said the manager, leading the way out of the room.

With the combination secured, Jane opened the metal locker and took out a brown, leather satchel. Just as she was about to close the door she noticed a syringe lying on the bottom shelf. _This is too easy_ , she thought with a deep sigh. Knowing Frost had his hands full, she slid her cellphone from its holster and speed-dialled her Sergeant.

He picked up after two rings. “Hey, Vince. Look, Frost’s got Rachel in cuffs and we were ready to bring her in to the station, but… I just found a syringe in her locker.”

“ _Have you touched anything?”_

“No, I literally just found it, just now, but I don’t have any evidence bags on me.”

“ _I’ll send CSRU over, get them to photograph it in place and collect it. Get Frost to arrest her again.”_

It had already been a long day and Jane huffed, “Arrest her again?”

“ _For murder.”_

oOo

Korsak had the Thursday morning news playing on his computer monitor when Jane and Frost walked in. “Hey, you guys seen this?”

They crowded around the back of his desk, peering over his shoulder. The small video screen showed a reporter and news crew camped outside Boston Water and Sewer Commission’s headquarters, along with what looked like a rally of people all holding signs.

 _“… demanding more information about the quality of Boston’s drinking water. Officials have declined all interviews and are yet to comment. But these folks say they’re not leaving until someone talks to them. With me now is respected community leader, Father Crowley….”_ The camera panned to the side and the suited man shoved his microphone into the face of a very familiar priest.

Korsak was giggling, shaking his head, as Jane and Frost turned their heads behind his to look at each other.

Frost’s eyebrows were as high as Jane had ever seen them as she mouthed _What the fuck?_

_“… we have a right to know if the water is tainted. We demand independent testing and the free publication of results to put the public at ease. No corporation should be able to hide potentially harmful substances from decent, god-fearing people. Until they open their doors we can only assume they are covering up something evil…”_

Jane growled and walked away, “I’ve heard enough.”

Korsak was still chuckling, “I’ve never heard anything so ridiculous. Most entertaining thing I’ve seen all week.”

“Dr. Isles would be horrified,” balked Frost, turning to head into the BRIC.

“Indeed, I am,” came a lilting voice, drawing three sets of eyes to the doorway. Explaining her sudden appearance, she entered and regarded Jane, “I was just passing.” Turning back to Frost she added, “Water contamination is a serious issue; many diseases can be contracted from drinking contaminated water, such as Giardiasis, Legionellosis, Cholera, and Adenovirus, though contamination in Boston is rarely an issue and to claim otherwise could incite a citywide panic.” She lofted a finger in the air, confused, “Though, I believe the protestors are implying something more… **_behavioural_** might be contracted if they drink the water.” She shrugged, dismissing the ridiculous notion, “Impossible. My mother would say all protestors should be shown kindness; I think she rallied a few times in her youth. Personally, I think they ought to be forced to read educational materials. There’s no excuse for ignorance where science is concerned.”

Frost cleared his throat and looked away awkwardly.

Jane was grinning like an idiot. Dr. Isles was back.

The blonde smiled and turned her gaze over each detective. It was good to be back. Then turning fully to Jane, “I actually just popped in to check you were still okay for tonight.”

“Oh, um, yeah.”

“Okay!” she beamed. Turning, she gracefully dipped her head at the males before leaving, “Gentlemen.”

Korsak turned his attention to his ringing telephone but Frost’s attention lingered on the doorway as it swung closed. “I hate to see her go but I do so love to watch her leave.”

A balled up napkin hit him square in the face as Jane shouted, “Hey!”

“Sorry, sorry,” he surrendered, laughing, hands held up. “I’m just glad she’s back, that’s all.”

Jane tried to hide her face to cover a smile. She couldn’t really blame him. “Yeah… me too.”

She didn’t see him looking at her. He’d seen it, couldn’t really miss it. It wasn’t the smile so much as the look in her eyes that gave her away. The only time it hadn’t been there had been the day Maura chose to leave Boston with Ian.

An audible click was heard as Korsak replaced the phone handset, “Rachel Deakin’s attorney just arrived.”

The younger detectives stood up, grabbing files and a tablet computer.

“Where are we with the memory stick?” the older man asked Frost.

“Nearly there,” he guessed, hoping the algorithms he had left running in BRIC would be complete pretty soon.

Evidence against Rachel Deakin was mounting but Jane shook her head, “I still say Charlie did it.”

“You found the syringe, though.”

“Yeah,” she drawled. “That could have been planted. Someone is pointing us towards Rachel. The assault and the murder could still be unrelated.”

oOo

The tablet computer sat on the interview room table, vividly replaying the moment the nurse assaulted Harry Mitchell.

Removing his glasses, Korsak looked sombre, “What do you have to say about that, Ms. Deakin?”

“I’m sorry,” she squeaked, teary and trembling.

“Do you make a habit of hitting the Beechgrove residents?”

“No!” she yelled. “It wasn’t… I didn’t…” Her face turned red as she became more upset.

“Why would you do that?” the detective pleaded.

Like it should have been obvious, she explained, “She said sometimes the old folks get a bit muddled and… out of hand… and that if you give them a quick slap it snaps them out of it.”

“Who said that?”

“Charlie.”

“Do you always do what Charlie tells you?”

She sounded so young, naïve and immature, “No, but… she helps me.”

“What else does she help you with?”

“Anything,” she smiled, swooning. “Everything. She’s my girlfriend.”

Korsak’s eyebrows lifted, that was news to him. He smiled encouragingly, “Really?”

“We made out in her car.” She blushed, embarrassed, “Couldn’t keep her hands off me.”

“How long have you been seeing each other?”

“Since I started working there,” she giggled before turning serious again. “But it’s a secret. Charlie said the boss wouldn’t like us having a relationship.”

“And what can you tell us about the camera?”

She looked around at her attorney, unsure, stuttering, “I don’t know anything about a camera.”

“Someone put a hidden camera in Harry Mitchell’s room. Do you know who would do that?”

She shook her head again, “No. I -”

She turned deathly white the instant Korsak asked, “What if I told you that we think Chief Staff Nurse Charlie Winter hid that camera?”

oOo

Jane dragged the metal chair away from the interview room table and sat down. Placing her case file on the surface she regarded Charlie Winter with interest. “We have discovered some evidence that suggests Rachel Deakin assaulted Harry Mitchell.”

The brunette’s mouth hung open, “I – I don’t know anything about that.”

Head tilted, the detective probed, “You didn’t know she hit Harry Mitchell? Slapped him across the face.”

“No. I told you… she’s… harmless.”

Piercing brown eyes narrowed, studying, “She says she’s your girlfriend.”

A harsh laugh echoed around the cold, spartan room. “No.” She shook her head, then more firmly, “No. She can be a bit clingy and I’ve tried to be supportive but everything has been above board and professional.”

oOo

Swinging her arms and sighing loudly, Jane stalked into the BRIC.

Frost was busy tapping keys on the computer as Korsak looked up and asked, “Any luck?”

She shook her head despondently and plopped down in a chair. “Nope. She’s denying everything.” She swept her curls away from either side of her face, “But I’m convinced, after what you said about Rachel, that Charlie is using her. She’s manipulative and I think Rachel was any easy target to exploit.”

Korsak had been mulling it over. It did seem to fit. “A scapegoat?”

“Yeah.” Jane reasoned it out, “She’s done everything Charlie told her to because she’s besotted.”

Something bleeped on the main computer and Frost threw his hands in the air. “A-ha!”

The large display screens came to life and Jane squinted at the documents on view.

“These are deleted files we managed to recover from the memory stick.” The name on the utility bills was clear as day. “Looks like Charlie did make the video.”

Jane’s forehead was creased and her eyebrows were knitted painfully together, “Why send it in anonymously just to get found out that easily? It’s sloppy.”

Korsak murmured, Jane was right, it didn’t make sense. “I’ll organise a warrant to search her flat.” He pointed at Frost with a ballpoint pen, drawing a firm nod from the computer whiz, “See what else you can find on there and then go get the rest of her computer equipment.”

oOo

 _If only every suspect was this quick to crack_ , thought Jane, she’d spend much more time at home and a lot less time sat in a hard, metal chair in this brick-lined box.

Charlie’s posture had slumped and her guilty eyes were glued to the table top, “I think… deep down… I wanted you to know it was me.” She sighed, breathing out the weight of her confession. “I set up the camera and sent you the memory stick.”

There were several things Jane wanted to address, but rather than jump the gun she simply asked, “Why?”

Charlie shrugged, “I suspected… I felt sorry for her. She has quite a temper and I became concerned for the residents.”

“Concerned for their welfare,” Jane nodded, earning a murmur of agreement from the nurse.

A series of further nods punctuated the detective’s pause as she opened the file and drew out a photograph. It was actually a screenshot from the assault video and she set it right side up in front of Charlie.

“See, here’s the thing… that show,” she pointed her left index finger at the image. “The one playing on the TV in Harry’s room, in the background, my colleague identified it as having last been broadcast five weeks ago.”

Charlie stared back at the detective, speechless.

“Can you see how I might be a bit confused, Ms. Winter?” Jane lowered her voice and leaned in, “You said you were concerned for the residents’ welfare and you went to the trouble of getting proof… so why would it take you five weeks to report it?”

oOo

Frost was busy connecting wires to a pile of electronic equipment and a computer hard drive when Jane flounced back into the BRIC.

Korsak looked surprised, “We weren’t expecting you back so soon, Jane.”

“Oh,” she waved a dismissive hand. “I’m just letting her stew for a while.”

“It’s not like you to take a break during interrogations.”

“Just trying to rattle her a little bit. I’m right about this one,” she stated, supremely confident. “I can feel it. She’s tying herself up in knots as we speak.”

The sound of heels clicking through the homicide department had all three detectives turning toward the open door.

Without preamble, Maura stopped and handed over a manila folder to Jane and spoke to the room, “The substance in the syringe is potassium chloride. CSRU found vials of a clear substance behind the bath panel in Charlie Winter’s apartment and they contain potassium chloride in the exact same concentration.” She leaned in to Jane, pointing an index finger at the contents of the file as the brunette held it open. “There’s also a partial print on the syringe matching Charlie Winter.”

“Yes!” Jane suddenly grabbed Maura, a long arm wrapped around her shoulders, tugging their torsos together as a kiss was planted into thick, blonde hair. The smell of shampoo permeated her nostrils and it took a couple of seconds to realise she needed to release the medical examiner.

The blonde smiled and made a little curtsey motion, equally modest and proud, “We’re still running additional tests but I thought you’d want to know right away.”

“We still have no witnesses,” stated Korsak, putting a dampener on their excitement.

“And no motive,” Frost chipped in absently. “A jury won’t convict without a motive.”

Jane huffed childishly, planting her hands on her hips and jutting her chin towards the grey-haired man, “Well, you haven’t managed to get anything either.”

He waggled his eyebrows before throwing a well-worn notepad at her, “Haven’t I?”

Jane skim read the first block of information on the front page and looked up at him, grinning, “You’ve been holding out on me, old man.”


	7. Chapter 7

Jane reeked of confidence when she strode back into the interview room and sat facing Charlie Winter once again. For the first time she noticed the nurse fidgeting. She had succeeded in her attempts to unsettle the overly-confident brunette.

Notepad in hand, she adopted a casual posture, turning to the side and crossing her legs. “Tell me about Harry Mitchell,” she said, her tone was relaxed, inviting conversation. “What was he like?”

“I don’t really know. I didn’t have much to do with him myself.”

“The retirement home manager gave us the shift rotas. You were working the night Harry died.”

“I was, but I was dealing with other residents.”

“Do you remember Bernie Ross? What was he like?”

Again, she dismissed, “I – I don’t recall any time I dealt with him.” Jane just smiled patronisingly as she added, “There are a lot of other nurses on staff y’know.”

“My colleague did some digging, spoke to a few relatives and it’s interesting what they all had in common.” Flipping the notepad over in her hands, she read from the bullet points she’d added to the information Korsak had compiled. “Harry Mitchell’s daughter said he could be **_a very difficult man_**. Bernie Ross died at the retirement home two weeks ago. His widow called him **_abrupt and irritating_**.”

Charlie was unresponsive again but the fidgety plucking of her fingernails was getting steadily worse.

“Ivy Hardwick, eighty-four, died three weeks ago, her son said she was **_very hard to please_**. Mary Coleman, ninety-one, died six weeks ago, **_abrasive_**. Lesley Munn, died eight weeks ago, could be… **_impossible_**.” She sat up straight and watched Charlie blink repeatedly, her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. “People rarely speak ill of the dead, particularly not family members, so it’s striking when they do.”

The silence stretched on as the detective waited to see if this mountain of evidence would be enough to bury the woman in front of her. She looked ready to break, almost, but still said nothing.

Jane released a sigh of frustration, and flung her chair out from underneath herself, preparing to leave. She stopped inside the door at the sound of a text message arriving and grabbed at her cellphone angrily.

She turned back with a grin upon reading what Korsak had sent.

_Maura says victim’s DNA on the syringe. Charge her._

oOo

Jane leaned back in the dining chair patting her stomach, “Wow, Constance. I’m speechless.”

“I told you mother was a good cook,” Maura smiled as she cleared empty plates from the table. “All those years spent living in Europe really paid off.”

Constance was very gracious, “I’m glad you liked it.”

Jane chuckled, turning to Constance who was sipping a glass of wine. “You’re not kidding. That cannelloni was incredible. Are you sure your name is Isles and not like… Illiano or something.”

Constance scoffed, flattered, “No. My maiden name, in fact, was Smith. Not very glamorous, I’m sure you’ll agree.”

Jane blushed. Regardless, there was still an air of something exotic and mysterious about Constance Isles. Like she’d seen the world and absorbed its secrets. It had been intimidating to meet her at first, those many years ago, though Jane had behaved to the contrary.

“You could still show my mother a thing or two,” she said. Then regretting the comment almost immediately, she added, “Don’t tell her I said that!”

Constance chuckled as she rose from her chair and rubbed Jane’s shoulder, “Don’t worry, Detective. Your secret’s safe with us.” Walking into the kitchen, she took Maura gently by the waist and encouraged her away from the sink. “Let me do that, darling. Go and spend some time with Jane.”

Maura shook her head, “You did all the cooking, Mom. It’ll just take me a minute.”

“Really,” Constance pleaded quietly. “I don’t mind.” She lowered her voice further and winked when Maura looked at her questioningly. “Go.”

The blonde made her way back to the table, refilled their wine glasses and invited Jane out onto the back porch.

“Are you sure you don’t need a hand?” the brunette called to Constance. Her own mother would pitch a fit if there was no help forthcoming with the mountain of dishes used during your average Rizzoli dinner.

“No, dear,” replied Constance. “You’re a guest,” as if that excused her from everything. Jane could get used to this.

As the two younger women made their way to the back door, Maura gestured with her wine glass, “We’ll just be out here for a little while.”

“Okay, darling. I’m going to finish these and go to bed.” Wiping her hands on a tea towel, she smiled, “It was nice to see you again, Jane.”

The brunette nodded, “You too, Mrs. Isles.” Following Maura out of the back door, she realised that as she’d said the words she’d really meant them.

Sitting down on the plush cushions of the porch swing, Jane looked around appreciatively and said, “This is really nice, Maura. Your house is great.”

“This is my favourite spot. I thought you might enjoy it since its still warm out.”

They sat in silence for a while, pressed against each other with the porch swing gently rocking, soothing. It was the least stressed Jane had felt in a long time.

Constance had planted some lavender, Maura realised, in the container boxes by the swing and the scent filled her nostrils, carried on the warm evening breeze. It was calming and she closed her eyes, letting her head fall back onto the cushion.

Jane turned her head when Maura murmured, a quiet little sigh indicating she was relaxed too. She couldn’t help staring, sweeping her eyes up and down Maura’s body for another full minute until the younger woman spoke.

“You closed the Beechgrove case today then, I assume?”

“Yeah, not all of it. The assaults will be dealt with separately, though I’d love to personally see them all banged up for what they did to Eddie and the others.” Jane sighed. It was touch and go there for a while that they’d ever get full closure for all of the families and she was relieved to have gotten such a good result. “The homicides are officially closed though. She was a tough nut to crack. Denied everything right to the end.”

Maura lifted her head and met Jane’s eyes, “They can’t argue with evidence.” She practically shone with pride, her faith in the irrefutable nature of science oozing from every pore.

“She tried,” Jane laughed. “Right up until we had the victim’s DNA on the syringe. The look on her face when she knew she was going down was priceless. She broke down soon after that, spilled everything. Turns out her massive ego couldn’t cope with the few old folk that were mean to her.”

Holding her glass with both hands, the blonde tipped her head to the side, thinking. “She wasn’t very smart.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” Maura shifted in her seat, twisting her hips to get a better look at her friend but pressing her leg more fully into the detective in the process. “There are numerous ways to kill someone without detection.”

“It’s scary that you know all that, y’know.”

Maura jerked a shoulder nonchalantly after a sip of wine, “It’s available on the internet if you know where to look.”

“Okay, don’t go broadcasting it.” The brunette poked Maura’s thigh and grinned accusingly, “We’ll have every homicidal maniac from here to Connecticut avoiding detection and my case closure rate will be down the toilet.”

Maura rolled her eyes at Jane’s exaggeration and drank from her glass, “I just meant… her attempt to frame someone else was ultimately her downfall. You found the evidence that put her away because she put it there herself.” Jane was about to speak, but raised an amused eyebrow instead when Maura hiccupped and carried on speaking without a beat, “What’s with bad guys using potassium chloride anyway? You see it a lot in movies. Don’t they know a syringe full of air does the same thing and there’s no trace to test in a lab?!”

When the doctor hiccupped again Jane’s eyebrows lifted to her hairline and a grin exploded on her face. Pointing an index finger at her friend, she laughed and teased, “How much of that have you had? Were you drinking before I got here?”

Maura was shaking her head wildly, her eyebrows were scrunched and her face was falsely serious, denying everything.

“You did! Oh my god.” Jane made a grab for the blonde’s glass, “Gimme that! No more wine for you.”

Maura laughed hysterically and squirmed away, swatting at Jane’s grabby hand, holding her glass out at arm’s reach, “Nngh. No! Stop it.”

Regarding her sceptically with a squint, Jane gave up and sat back and Maura held a palm to her chest while her breathing returned to its normal rate. Had Maura imbibed a little liquid courage just as Jane wished she had herself before this evening started? What could she have to be nervous about?

They were still both smiling like idiots when Maura broached a subject Jane had been dreading.

“So, how’s everything with Casey?”

Several really deep breaths later, Jane still hadn’t been able to put a positive spin on anything that was running through her mind and so she just glued her eyes to the wine glass held in her lap and started talking.

“He got shot…”

Maura gasped, covering her mouth with a hand, but didn’t interrupt.

“… in the hip. It wasn’t life threatening but he was out of action for a long time. The doctors said he might have problems with his leg for the rest of his life. The army offered to pass him out, y’know, medical retirement… but he wouldn’t accept it.” She took a big gulp of her wine and a big breath and continued, “He found a surgeon who said he could fix it but that there’d be months of physio afterward. He went ahead and did it without talking to me, and he’s been to every session alone since. Didn’t want me there.” She laughed once, “Apart from that we’re fine!”

Tentatively, softly, Maura enquired, “Why would he do that?”

“Ohhh,” Jane drawled. “Because… he loves the army more than me. He always did. He wants to go back so badly. Whatever we had in the beginning fizzled out pretty quickly after the first time he disappeared for deployment at five minutes notice.”

“So, his ultimatum then -”

“Marry me or I’ll re-enlist?” She scoffed, “Yeah, that lasted about three months. I came home one day to find his stuff gone and a note on the coffee table. They’d offered him a promotion and he’d been on the first plane out.”

Maura was stunned at the blatant disrespect, “Wow.” How could anyone put Jane anywhere but first?

There was an almost guilty look on the brunette’s face now, “What’s weird is… I was kinda glad he was gone. I mean, I missed him, but… I felt… relieved. I got to do my own laundry and throw away my own expired groceries.”

The two of them laughed together. Maura nodded, remembering fondly her friend’s proclivity towards takeout and fast food, a habit that frequently led to a refrigerator full of expired groceries or greening leftovers.

“We just coast along now I guess. We don’t fight that much and when we do it’s always the same stupid shit that I hear from my ma. ‘ _Why can’t you do something less dangerous, Jane? Why can’t you wear dresses more often, Jane?_ ’ Honestly, it’s like having a nagging roommate who I don’t wanna sleep with.” Jane was embarrassed; she’d never spoken to anyone about what did or didn’t go on in their bedroom. Sheepishly, she hung her head before draining the last of her wine. “I’m not sure what I’m even doing anymore.”

A whispered, pained, “I’m so sorry, Jane,” from Maura forced Jane’s formidable iron will to fight a sudden gathering of tears and lump in her throat that the blonde clearly saw her swallow down.

“Oh, pshhh,” she waved, shaking her head and slapping on the mask of indifference she regularly wore at home. “Nobody’s fault but mine.”

The weary sadness Jane felt, weighing down every muscle and vibrating through her bones, was second only to the look of sheer sorrow etched all over Maura’s face.

Jane stroked a hand over Maura’s forearm, “You don’t have to tell me… what happened with Ian, if you don’t want to.” She didn’t hesitate when Maura’s arm moved to join their hands, twining their fingers together and supplying a reassuring squeeze.

Maura’s eyes had filled with tears and Jane thought perhaps this thing, whatever it was that had happened, might be too big for Maura to share.

But she swiped at her cheek, removing the wetness that had escaped unbidden, and smiled faintly, “I missed you, Jane.” Another squeeze of her hand seemed to say the feeling was mutual. “That’s not – I do want to tell you, it’s just… gonna be hard.”

Jane sighed. “I know we kinda grew apart after I got married, Maura, but… I’m right here.”

Maura put down her empty wine glass and covered where Jane’s hand still held hers. Holding on for dear life, she whispered, “Okay.” She breathed in deeply and held it for a second, calming herself. She was ready to open up. “Okay.”


	8. Chapter 8

“I took that position in San Diego because Ian promised he wouldn’t be travelling as much with his relief work. His new position at the Trust was intended to be supervisory, though we both expected he’d still make a few trips per year. I was… prepared for that.” She breathed deeply again, “What I wasn’t prepared for… was moving all that way to be with him to have him disappear.”

Thinking she’d have to contact someone in missing persons before the night was over, Jane’s mind was a whirl, “What do you mean disappear?”

“It started with one trip, then another, and another. They went from a few days to weeks to months. I would contact him and he’d make excuses for why the trip was longer than scheduled and then even that stopped. I wouldn’t hear from him at all when he was gone. There was one trip where I discovered he’d actually been back to San Diego and left again without telling me.”

Offended, Jane snarled, “The nerve!”

“I got so lonely, Jane.” There was that overbearing, debilitating sadness again. “And I couldn’t – I couldn’t live that solitary life again. It was agonizing and he didn’t seem to care.” She sniffed and Jane squeezed her hand again, encouraging her to go on. “I had an affair.”

Jane’s eyebrows shot up and she blinked repeatedly. It was the last thing she expected her friend to say.

“I didn’t set out to find someone else but it - it happened and I was helpless to stop it. I fell so completely, so quickly in love with that person that it was almost as if it was happening to someone else.”

The pain was so clear to see that the brunette felt it inside her own chest. She rubbed Maura’s knuckles with her thumbs over and over again.

“Ian found out… somehow. I’m still not sure how considering he was almost always out of the country. But the next time I saw him he – he put me in the hospital.”

Jane was practically trembling. She was gonna track down this motherfucker and tear off his balls.

“He filed for divorce. It was a mess. He wanted every penny I’d ever earned and to destroy my reputation in the process.”

Jane’s detective mind wanted to connect all the dots, “So, what happened?”

“I knew too much,” she smiled. “So, I threatened him right back. He’d been stealing drugs and supplies from the Trust’s medical centre and I said I’d report him. I knew he was taking things on a regular basis, though I only found out the true extent of it much later.” She chuckled morosely, “He wasn’t keen on the idea of wearing an orange jumpsuit. In the end he signed the papers without a fuss and disappeared completely.”

To say Jane was gobsmacked was an understatement. She’d only met the guy a handful of times, and didn’t instantly warm to him if she was honest, but she’d never have taken him for a drug smuggler. She wasn’t sure how to phrase the next question on her mind. “And the… the other person you… what happened to them?”

There was a very long pause while Maura worked up the courage. “She ran away.”

“She?!” Jane’s eyes were as big as saucers, until the full weight of what Maura was admitting fell on her and she softened, realisation setting in. “Oh.”

Maura picked invisible lint from her trouser leg, it was somewhere to anchor her gaze because she sure as hell couldn’t look Jane in the face right now. “She blamed herself for all the cuts and bruises. Couldn’t bear look at me after that. It was all such a mess and it was just… too much for her in the end. She moved away to start over.”

Clutching a hand to her own chest, tears welling in her eyes, Jane’s one pervading thought was _Oh god… everyone left her_. Her naturally raspy voice was low and brittle when she finally echoed Maura’s words back at her friend, “I’m so sorry, Maura.”

The blonde hiccupped a sob as she finally looked up at her friend and begged, “Just… please – please don’t think badly of me… I couldn’t bear it -”

“No, no,” Jane rushed in, scooting over as much as she could given their close proximity already, throwing her arms around the shorter woman’s shoulders and rocking her as she sobbed through her shirt. “God, no, sweetheart.” She stroked the back of Maura’s head and closed her eyes, “I’m so sorry we lost touch. I should never have- ” _married Casey_ , she finished mentally. “I should have done more...” _to keep you, to protect you, to save you_.

Maura sat back, the worst of her tears over, and she wiped at her face under her eyes.

Giving her friend a moment to breathe and compose herself, Jane waited several long beats, before her gravelly voice offered, “I can get someone to track him down and I can -”

“No!” Maura barked a laugh, her eyes still shining with wetness, “No, that’s really not necessary.” She patted Jane’s thigh several times, smiling and tilting her head. “Thank you, though.”

“If you’re sure? I’d love to get my -”

Another pat, “I’ve got my fresh start. That’s enough for me.”

Taking Maura’s hand in hers once more, the brunette spoke softly, “I’m glad you told me, Maura.”

The doctor still looked unsure, scared of repercussions yet to come, “I guess I was worried what you might think of me, that you might hate me for who I am now.”

They both laughed when Jane remarked, “I could be wrong, but I don’t think I’ve turned into my mother just yet.” The detective’s forehead creased and she turned serious again, “You really thought I might hate you? **_Really_**?!”

Maura looked sheepish once more, “I’m sorry.”

“So, was this like…” Jane was trying so hard to be delicate she was stuttering. “Would you have a relationship with a woman again, or… was it a one-time thing?”

Maura smiled sweetly; Jane was cute when she was flustered. “I would. I mean, I think that’s who I am, y’know?”

It wasn’t really a question but Jane nodded her understanding anyway. “And your mom, she’s cool with… everything?”

“She’s been wonderful,” Maura said in a long breath. “She’s done so much for me. It’s…” She shook her head, searching for a way to explain, “… overwhelming.”

“She’s really great,” Jane conceded with another nod. Constance had been a revelation today and the brunette was extremely glad that Maura had that relationship to rely on. It was the least she deserved.

Maura watched Jane fidget for a long moment, her expression indicating she was working up to saying something awkward, or that she felt a little uncomfortable. “What is it?”

Jane waved her off, chickening out, “Nothing.”

“You can say it, whatever it is.”

Jane smiled, embarrassment colouring her entire face, a bright pink blush disappearing down past the open collar of her shirt, “Sooo,” she drawled childishly. “What was it like… with… **_her_**?”

“ ** _Her_** name was Ruth.”

“Ruth,” Jane repeated under her breath. Maura and Ruth, Ruth and Maura; it didn’t roll easily off the tongue, not like… “So, how… how did you… um, what was…” God this was excruciating. “Please don’t make me say it,” she whined.

“Sex?” Maura laughed. She wanted to answer the question but it was bound to make the brunette screw up her face regardless of how she put it. In the end she sighed, turning serious, and offered, “Sex was never an issue for me. I enjoyed having sex and, even with Ian, it ranged from… mostly uninspiring to occasionally adventurous. But most of it… was just fucking.”

Jane couldn’t hold in the ugly snort that leapt out of her. “Maura!”

“You asked,” she chuckled.

“I know but I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say that word before.”

“I - I didn’t know that it was appropriate before.” At Jane’s very confused look, she added, “I realised that… before Ruth… that’s all I’d been doing. I’d never really… made love… until I’d been with another woman.”

Maura’s soft, sensual, almost wistful tone made Jane blink and swallow a gulp. Somewhat speechless and more aware than ever of her friend’s proximity, she cursed her overriding curiosity. She should never have asked that question.

oOo

Jane hadn’t slept very well – not a wink if she was being honest – and so she was at her desk more than an hour early on Friday. There was a little paperwork still to complete and she finished it in record time, given the peace and quiet in the office that allowed her to work without distraction.

When Lieutenant Cavanaugh showed up, the brunette had rushed into his office and let loose a barrage of questions. It didn’t matter that Detective Sergeant Vince Korsak had already explained it to her, she still wanted reassurance from higher up that the issues of neglect and abuse were being suitably dealt with at Beechgrove Retirement Home. She wanted confirmation, no… _promises_ , that everyone responsible would be punished to the full extent of the law and that the likes of Edward Bannister wouldn’t have any reason to be afraid any more.

Cavanaugh had finally relented and said he’d see what he could do. Satisfied with the situation, she’d swaggered leisurely down to the café for the largest cup of coffee she could wrap her hands around.

She’d barely turned and begun to pour copious amount of sugar and creamer into her drink when Angela had come up behind her to continue the begging and pleading that had started the second she’d entered. _Come back to the home, Janie. They need all the help they can get, Janie. Don’t you have a conscience, Janie? Why don’t you want to spend time with me, Janie?_

Trying to emotionally blackmail her daughter with comparisons to the Talucci women had been the last straw and Jane had turned around in a flash, thunder clouding her face. She didn’t mean to lie, but it was the one thing she could count on getting her mother to stop instantly. The argument itself was valid, they’d bickered about it often enough. “I work too much as it is, Ma. Do you think Casey wants me to spend what little time I have with him looking after old folks instead?”

“Well,” Angela tipped her head, instantly deflated, “I suppose you have a point. But it’s a shame, y’know.”

Making her way out to the elevator she’d replied flatly, “I know, Ma. Terrible shame. See you later.”

She’d spent the next ten minutes after that, squinty-eyed and using her inferior right hand as an added challenge, trying to knock over Frost’s action figure by flicking rubber bands across the room.

Jane’s ass was the only part of her visible when Korsak moved quietly into the office. He lay his satchel quietly on his desk and cleared his throat.

A flurry of dark waves smothered Jane’s face as she sprung up in a flash, a fist full of rubber bands clearly visible before she had the wherewithal to hide them behind her back.

Their eyes held for three seconds, then Korsak gruffed, “You alright?”

“Yeah,” she snipped. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Korsak looked at her pointedly, amused, “You better not let him catch you doing that.”

She raised a sharp eyebrow as her lips turned down in denial, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, old man.”

Jane sat down and Korsak watched her fidget, rearrange everything on her desk, shift in her chair, and tap her pen repeatedly for a full ten minutes before he disappeared into Cavanaugh’s office.

The detective reappeared shortly afterward, the Lieutenant hovering in his office doorway. “Rizzoli! It’s the weekend…” He lifted his wrist to examine his watch, “… starting now!”

“What?!”

He jutted his chin in the direction of the corridor, “Go home.”

She watched the Lieutenant’s office door slam and turned to her old partner in shock. “What just happened, Vince?”

He shrugged, large shoulders hefting the entirety of his oversized blazer, “Take a break, Jane. You seem a bit distracted today. I’ll call you if a case comes in.”

She opened her mouth to speak before thinking better of it. “You’re sure?”

He scoffed, “You’ve got more vacation days banked than the rest of us put together. If ** _I_** were you, I’d get out of here while I had the chance.”

This time she didn’t argue. She shucked on her suit jacket, grabbed her weapon out of the desk drawer, flipped her long hair over one shoulder and stalked out of the room.”


	9. Chapter 9

Jane drove home, pleasantly surprised at the idea of starting her weekend a little early. It didn’t hurt that Casey spent all day at the physiotherapy centre on Fridays and she’d have the apartment to herself for a good few hours.

Her first order of business was to change out of her suit into comfy sweatpants and a t-shirt; if she was going to slob out she was going to do it in style.

She ordered in pizza for lunch, an extra large meat feast that she knew would be far too much for her to eat in one sitting but that she vowed to finish off at dinner. She’d work off the additional calories with an extra long run in the morning, of course that meant inviting Maura to join her workout.

The beautiful blonde had dominated the detective’s thoughts the entire previous night after she’d said farewell and she had been the first thing to cross the brunette’s mind when she awoke that morning.

The doctor’s bombshell had shaken and cracked the firmly heterosexual ground beneath Jane’s feet; leaving her shaky and questioning… everything.

Feeling like she ought to snap out of her preoccupied stupor, Jane strolled into the bathroom to splash some water on her face. She filled the wash basin and cupped a handful, pressing it to her cheeks, causing goose pimples to erupt over her skin. Dark circles hung underneath her eyes, evidence of her sleepless night, months of sleepless nights it felt like; most of them for personal reasons, some because of work, but none of them over Maura. Until now.

Shuffling back into the living room on bare feet, she slumped down onto the couch and flicked on the television.

For ten minutes she became lost inside her own head. She stared at the screen unseeing. The television might as well have been on mute, too; her ears were too full of the sounds of her own pulsing blood. She bent forward, rested her elbows on her knees and cupped the back of her neck with both hands. She rubbed at the stiff and tense muscles there, a knot of tension that represented perfectly how she felt with the doctor’s name still playing on a loop inside her mind.

The brunette was consumed, confused, curious. So many questions roiled within her that she knew she’d never be brave enough to voice. Last night had been different, unusual; she hadn’t been herself. She’d been thrown off balance, put out of her depth and look how that’d turned out; asking private questions, asking for trouble.

Deciding there was only one way to quiet her jumbled mind, Jane focused on seeking her own answers, courtesy of Netflix. She hadn’t used the service much at all in the past; she’d never had the time to get hooked on a new series’, never followed the popular shows that seemed to be regular topics of conversation in the office or the café.

Browsing the Lesbian Movies category was a revelation in itself.

She’d expected to find porn if she was being honest, really bad porn, the kind of bad porn that Casey might suggest in an ill-advised attempt to get both their motors running. It was all so poorly executed and badly acted that she had never shown even a passing interest. Nothing about hyper-feminised women who were unconvincing and unnatural turned her on. It was meant for straight men to fantasize about and she silently dreaded the search results.

Instead, she’d found high-quality, well-acted, genuinely moving love stories.

Choosing a movie title arbitrarily according to the little thumbnail photo - two women holding hands - Jane started her viewing marathon of discovery and settled back into the couch.

By the time the credits rolled on the first movie, a slightly saccharine tale of love at first sight, the detective admitted to herself she was looking for something a little more… explicit.

She cleared her half-eaten pizza and used napkins from the coffee table, relocating them to the kitchen counter, before returning to the couch with a beer and starting her second movie. This one looked more promising; the photo showed two women embracing, an intimate and subtly sexual pose that looked intriguing.

As the story developed, and the two women succumbed to an attraction that neither could fight despite one of them being married to a man, Jane found herself inching toward the edge of the couch. Absorbed by the emotive performances, the brunette couldn’t help but gasp as the tasteful sex scene played out and a tingling heat began to suffuse her own limbs in response.

Jane’s third viewing wasn’t her choice, it was a helpful suggestion from Netflix, the service seemingly learning and adapting itself to her selections. She cursed once and vowed to research that particular feature more later, worried that it might cause problems. It wouldn’t do for the damn television to go betraying her secret to anyone who wanted to watch something on demand. Not anyone, she corrected; Casey.

There was a distinct age difference between the two main female characters in this romance, but it was somewhat incidental to the central plot, one of sexual awakening. The love scenes, once again, were pleasingly tasteful but increasingly arousing. With a hand covering her mouth, Jane couldn’t help but imagine herself in a similar position, experiencing her first time all over again. How wonderful it would be to experience the sheer bliss on display for herself.

Sexual gratification wasn’t a problem in itself; she had sorted herself out, often, in fact, since Casey’s injury and even long before that. It had gotten easier and less complicated each time he left. But there could be nothing to compare, surely, to the rightness and happiness she was witnessing now. What would it truly feel like to have someone who fitted you perfectly and effortlessly, a partner and a lover where the relationship wasn’t forced or tired?

Jane perused several more titles, skipping the more mundane aspects of the plot and going straight for the physical parts, the _action_ scenes. Again and again she watched, absorbed as hands roamed and mouths kissed, as fingers stroked and hips moved. She’d caught her own mouth lolling open at one point and had looked around the room, almost embarrassed at her uncontrollable, carnal reactions. Maura wasn’t wrong in her explanation; this was so much more than just having sex.

Jane found herself full of wonder though her curiosity was sated, for now.

As evening arrived, the sound of heavy footsteps falling in the outer hallway had the detective scrambling for the remote, the television blacked out instantly. Flitting silently into the bedroom as a key turned in the lock, Jane dived under the bed covers and feigned sleep.

When Casey came to check on her she said she had been ill and taken the day off to recuperate. He’d kissed her once on the temple as she forced a smile, telling her to go back to sleep and that he’d join her later. She relished the chance to spend a couple more hours alone with her own thoughts and hoped she’d sleep more soundly tonight.

oOo

New homicide cases came and went as weeks passed. Case closure rates shot up throughout the entire precinct; all thanks to the new Chief Medical Examiner and her team.

Someone had even started a Homicide betting pool and every detective, including Jane, Barry and Vince, had fun trying to win the cash pot by closing their case the fastest.

The week Detective Crowe was arrogant enough to triple his own wager and brag in front of everyone that he knew a way to exploit the beautiful M.E. to expedite his case results was the same week Cavanaugh discovered the pool’s existence. Not two full days later the Lieutenant had cracked a rare smile in front of the entire department as he presented the money to Jane.

Jane and Maura quickly became inseparable. Their professional relationship was a formidable, almost unbeatable force that earned them respect and commendations.

If she wasn’t at her desk, Jane could be found with Maura at a crime scene or with Maura in the autopsy suite. Sometimes she’d be with Maura in her office or with Maura grabbing a coffee, the pair taking a well-earned break.

When a particularly bad case came along, Maura would work late with Jane, debunking the detective’s sometimes-sketchy theories with her science and offering fresh eyes or a different perspective. If she had a case update to provide, she’d call Jane, or text Jane, or leave Jane a voicemail.

When the brunette was particularly stressed and unable to switch off, pursuing her case like a rabid dog with a bone, Maura would invite her home and they would continue working in the comfort of Maura’s house. They’d spread case files all over the kitchen island and eat pizza out of the box, or they’d talk it out on the couch, sipping glasses of wine until inspiration struck.

The week Jane had closed her case in record time was the same week Maura had gotten up early to find the brunette snoring adorably on the couch, her blanket discarded on the floor, and her hand-written case notes sticky-taped to the glass door of Maura’s fancy refrigerator. It was also the same week Maura realised she really wouldn’t hate it if this unconventional, career-focused, life-saving, crook-catching routine of theirs became permanent.

When they weren’t working Maura regularly joined Jane for a run and, less occasionally, Jane joined Maura at yoga. When the mood struck and they’d closed another case at a decent hour, they would join Barry and Vince at the Dirty Robber for drinks. It became a habit that the boys would ask as to their whereabouts, should one woman be absent from their social gathering, because, after all, wherever you found Rizzoli, Isles wasn’t far behind.

They became inexplicably joined, these two women with barely anything in common at first glance, individuals intertwined, and no one batted an eyelid as they fell into being best friends, far closer than they ever were before husbands and life intervened.

oOo

It was a pleasantly warm Saturday afternoon as Angela peered out of the kitchen window. Smiling fondly, she washed dishes from an impromptu lunch with her daughter and eldest son as she watched the two playing one-on-one in the driveway.

Jane had always had the advantage growing up, using her height to keep the ball out of reach as her brother’s scrambled around her and jumped up to no avail. She looked out for them, as the eldest, didn’t body-check them or cause bruises, but still Angela would plead at her to be careful.

As the boys grew taller and their puppy fat turned to muscle, as the body-checking started and the bruises began, Angela changed her tune. She’d whine, _‘Why you gotta join in, huh? I don’t want you rough-housing with them, Janie. Look at the state of your knees!’_ It only spurred Jane on more, made her more physical, encouraged her to match their strength and speed. In her mind it didn’t make her any less of a girl, but her mother never saw it that way.

Angela was no less concerned that her girl might get hurt thirty years later, telling the pair to take it easy as they’d stepped out of the house for some fresh air and a rematch that had been promised the day Frankie joined the academy. The grown man was no less boisterous now and soon the kitchen was filled with the familiar sounds of Angela fussing around for a first aid kit and telling Jane how silly she was for wanting to go out there in the first place.

“I knew this would happen!”

The door slammed and Frankie grabbed the nearest cloth he could put his hands on, throwing it at Jane’s chest as she took a seat by the small kitchen table.

“Didn’t I say this would happen? Do you know how many times I’ve had to clean up one of you kids because you don’t listen to me, huh?”

The detective wasn’t the only person irritated by Angela’s overreaction and Frankie pleaded, gesturing towards Jane, “Ma, come on. It’s not that bad.”

“Not that bad?!” she squawked. “She has blood all over her face! How is that not bad?!”

Jane sighed, mumbling through cloth, “I just bust my nose, Ma. I didn’t get a face transplant.”

Frankie hissed at the sting as Angela swatted his forearm with an open palm. “ ** _You_** bust her nose. You better hope she’s not disfigured, young man!”

Jane took the bundled material away from her face, inspecting it before rolling her eyes dramatically, “Would you stop?! Look, I’m fine.” She held the cloth out at arm’s length so her mother could see the evidence, “It’s already stopped bleeding. See? No big deal.”

“Happy now?” Frankie jumped in. Throwing a smarmy smile at his sister, he sang sarcastically, “She’s just as pretty as she always was.”

Angela bent over to get a close up look at Jane’s nose. There was a little dry blood still clinging to her face, on her chin, around the nostrils and above her top lip, but the cloth had done a good job of cleaning most of it away and, though swollen, her beautiful nose appeared to be in one piece. She ran a palm over each of Jane’s cheeks, muttering, “My poor baby,” and Jane recoiled at the mushy sentiment.

With a glare, the elder Rizzoli stood and turned to Frankie, her eyes burning furiously, “I am happy we don’t need to go to the emergency room. But…” She swiped a magazine from the table, rolled it up and held it aloft menacingly, before chasing Frankie out of the room with it, “…Come back here, Francesco! That was my best tea towel you just ruined!”

Snickering quietly, Jane was happy to lose her mother’s attention for a minute so she could breathe. Truth be told, she’d felt the cartilage snap when it happened; Frankie’s elbow connected solidly with her nose, coming up too quickly for her to get out of the way. Now her entire face throbbed painfully and her head was starting to pound, but she’d be damned if she was going to admit it. Jane Rizzoli didn’t do hospitals unless it was a life-and-death situation, and there had been so many of those in her short career that even the thought of going to hospital made her feel instantly better.


	10. Chapter 10

Declining countless offers from Angela to wash the blood out of her BPD Athletics t-shirt - she had dozens of them, it wouldn’t kill her to put one in the trash - Jane finally managed to leave her mother’s house and go home to her apartment.

Jane entered and Casey was out of his recliner, rushing across the room the second he saw the state she was in. “What the hell happened?”

She waved him off and he stood still as she moved further into the apartment. “Oh, nothing. Me and Frankie were shooting some hoops and he caught me in the face. No big deal.” She walked into the bedroom and stripped off her grey t-shirt, returning to the living room seconds later in it’s navy blue twin. Grabbing a beer from the fridge and sinking down into the couch with a huge sigh, she looked up at Casey who was still stood by the door, hands on his hips, clearly displeased.

Trying to lighten his suddenly stormy mood, she popped her feet up on the coffee table and laughed, “You’da thought Frankie had shot someone the way Ma chased him for cleaning me up with her best towel.”

“Disgraceful.”

She chuckled and swigged from the bottle, “Yeah, it is.” She laughed again before grabbing the TV remote, “She loved that tea towel.”

“Not him.”

Preoccupied with channel hopping, Jane wasn’t looking at Casey when she murmured, “Hmm?”

“It is disgraceful. But it’s not him. **_It’s you_**.”

Removing her feet from the coffee table, she muted the television and put down her beer bottle, “Excuse me?”

His brows were drawn into a fierce scowl and he was all but pacing in what little space was available between the front door and the living area.

“I’ll never understand it. Why you do it…” He was shaking his head, as if he was just talking out loud to himself rather than to his wife.

He was unreasonably agitated and Jane was confused. Softly, she asked, “Casey, what’s going on?”

He looked up at her and gestured a hand towards her face, “Am I supposed to be happy that my wife has two black eyes now?”

Jane swallowed, trying and failing to keep herself calm, before standing up to face him, “Is this the part where you tell me I’m not ladylike enough? **_Again_**?! Like I haven’t heard it **_every_** … **_single_** … **_day_** since I was old enough to understand there was a difference between girls and boys?”

“It’s bad enough you come home from work looking like that sometimes, do you really have to spend your **_free_** time getting roughed up, too?”

 _This is ridiculous_ , she thought, as her voice rose an octave in disbelief, “It was an accident! It’s not like I went out looking for trouble, so what’s the problem?”

“My problem is you acting like one of the boys all the time. I know you love your job but do you always have to be so… tough.”

“You have no problem with women serving in the army… **_Colonel_**. I’d say that’s pretty tough, wouldn’t you?” Jane scoffed, “It’s quite the double-standard you’ve got there!”

“That’s different,” he dismissed. Then after a beat, “They’re all goddamn dykes anyway.”

Jane’s chin snapped back and her eyebrows shot up. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Is that what it comes down to?” she fished, running a theory as she spoke, watching his reactions and going with her gut. “You don’t want me acting like **_those_** women? Is that it?”

He didn’t deny it, just stood there, looking at her, making it worse.

Jane’s blood boiled and she raised her voice. Her arms flailed and hands gestured wildly as she ranted, “You know what… you can take all your snide, chauvinistic comments and your thinly-veiled contempt, and y – your… crude jokes and your shitty gifts that were plainly all about pleasing you and never about pleasing me and you can stick them where the sun don’t shine!” She was on a roll and she took his momentary shock as an opportunity to carry on. “As if the way I look, or dress, or behave…” She jabbed a pointed finger into her own chest repeatedly, painfully, “… has anything to do with who. I. Am. In here.”

She was crying and he was speechless.

“What the hell are we doing, Casey?” she sniffed, her voice quieting back to normal volume.

“What do you mean?”

“I tried to change you when we first got together, tried to make you stay here, for me, and you couldn’t do it. But I shouldn’t have done that, anyway, because that’s who you are, the army runs through you and even injured you wanted to be there instead of here. And you’ve tried to change me, too. Expecting me to quit my job, trying to convince me I’d be happy and fulfilled playing the doting housewife, serving mint juleps to your army buddies or whatever. We’ve tried everything to change each other, instead of accepting each other. This hasn’t worked from the beginning and we’ve been kidding ourselves.”

“It wouldn’t be so bad if you were home more.”

Jane snorted humourlessly, “If ** _I_** were home more.” She nodded at the irony and ran her tongue over her bottom lip. He was looking at her like she’d finally realised how neglected he felt and it really was the last straw. She let rip, “You’ve got a fucking nerve, you know that?! You don’t care how much I work when you’re gone for six months at a time. You don’t ask if I’m okay, check if I’m eating right, or – or worry that I’m not sleeping. You don’t like a lot of things about me. You don’t like my friends -”

Casey scoffed, butting in, “I do like your friends, but when you’re ditching me to go hang out with the likes of that Frost guy, I mean… who knows what silly ideas he’s putting in your head. What do you guys even talk about anyway? Do you get tips on how to dress from his mom or something? I’ll bet it was his idea for you to set up that BPD softball team, wasn’t it? He probably got that from his mom too...”

Casey was still talking but the words faded out as Jane blinked. Her throat had closed up and her eyes stung. Never had she heard such obnoxious diatribe. His self-pitying, immature, ignorant, hateful words cut her, slashing back and forth across her abdomen until she felt physically sick.

“… even saw a little boy playing out front the other day; running through the sprinklers wearing a goddamned tutu. Your mom might not be as crazy as you think if that’s how it all starts!”

Quickly losing the battle to remain dry-eyed, Jane snatched up her keys and stormed out. She slammed the door with every ounce of force she could muster, warning Casey off following her and putting a barrier in between them for a head start in case he did exactly that.

The point at which the almost justifiable slanging match - on her part - had degenerated into spiteful, personal insults – on his - had been the point at which she couldn’t stomach looking at him any more.

oOo

The drive to Maura’s house never took very long, but sufficient time passed today for Jane’s surging adrenaline to wear off and for her tears to finally breach their dam. They ran their course down her face, pooling at her chin and dripping onto her t-shirt as she breathed raggedly, brokenly, for long minutes.

Upon reaching Beacon Hill, the brunette dried her face before exiting the car, cursing the redness in and around her eyes that she couldn’t hide no matter how hard she wished it otherwise. Jane was certain her best friend would instantly notice something was wrong, it terrified and excited her in equal measure; she wouldn’t have to hide any more, couldn’t escape it.

The effort Jane employed to prevent her tears from starting again was considerable when Constance Isles opened the front door instead of Maura. This scenario wasn’t the one Jane had played through her mind on the way over. She faltered, dismayed, and looked down at the ground as her shoulders became tensed and she crunched her long fingers into fists over and over again.

“She’s not here, dear,” Constance stated politely.

Jane just stared at the doorstep between them.

The older woman dipped her head to coax Jane’s gaze to meet her, “Jane? Are you okay?”

“Oh, um… yeah.” She sniffed, her chin trembling without permission, “Is Maura not home?”

“She went to the precinct, I believe.”

Jane turned and left, but not before meeting Constance’s kind eyes fully and whispering, “Thank you.”

oOo

There was just one Criminalist working in the lab when Jane passed by, peering through the vast glass wall that separated the scientists’ area from the corridor. Susie Chang was examining several close ups of what looked like severe bruising on a victim with a magnifier. She never looked up, oblivious to the detective’s unexpected presence, totally focused on her task and Jane wondered if the lack of staffing today meant the guys hadn’t caught a new case yet.

Ordinarily, Jane would stampede like an untameable stallion into Maura’s office, without announcement or invitation, her long, almost-black, wavy hair buffeted by her haste, completing the illusion. But today, her footsteps were muted, thanks to sneakers instead of heeled boots, and measured as she came to a stop outside Maura’s office window.

The blonde was working on her laptop, her hair imperfect and her clothes as casual as any human alive had ever seen her wear outside of her own home, and Jane watched her, entranced, through the open blind. She was breathtakingly, undeniably beautiful.

Jane could have stared, day-dreaming for five minutes or fifty, it was anybody’s guess how long she’d stood there, but she’d been jolted awake by Maura calling out for Susie. Had she somehow indicated her presence in the corridor? Had she shuffled her feet unknowingly, or spoken aloud to herself? She didn’t know. Either way, she was surely about to be intercepted by Susie coming one way or Maura approaching from the other, so she bit the bullet and stepped into the doorway.

“Oh, Jane! What are you doing here?”

The detective took several more steps inside Maura’s office but couldn’t take her eyes off the floor. So many new and strange feelings coursed through her. “I was looking for you… actually. I needed to -”

The doctor pointed at the brunette’s red and swollen nose, “Get **_that_** looked at?”

Looking up, Jane mumbled, “Huh?”

“Looks like a hairline fracture… of the nasal bone above the lateral nasal cartilage.”

“I took a knock, but it’ll be fine,” Jane dismissed.

Standing and stepping from behind her desk, Maura offered, “I can pop it back for you.”

“You can?”

The blonde nodded, “Mm-hmm.” Stepping closer to Jane, the M.E. gripped the detective’s chin firmly, holding her face in place. May I?”

Jane nodded, her eyes pinned on the beautiful lips that hovered inches from her own.

Suddenly, there was a shooting pain in her face and her head pounded just as ferociously as when Frankie had first collided with her. “OW! Jesus. God, that hurt.”

Maura chuckled lightly, sympathetically, “Sorry. It’s not disfiguring but you should put some ice on it to take down the swelling and reduce the bruising.”

Absently, Jane murmured, “Okay.”

Cupping the brunette’s cheek, Maura continued to inspect Jane’s face closely, turning it this way and that. After a few seconds she was happy that the nasal formation was correctly aligned and was certain that with the proper care it should heal without any further issues.

Jane’s dark chocolate gaze flicked repeatedly from Maura’s mouth to her gorgeous hazel eyes and back again.

Maura’s eyebrows drew together the moment she caught the dilation of Jane’s pupils. She withdrew her own face slightly as her breath hitched.

“Don’t -” Jane rushed, her voice breaking, latching on to Maura’s wrists where the doctor’s hands still held her face. The brunette’s voice was almost a whisper as a lone tear tracked a course down her to her chin. “Please.”

Maura shook her head lightly, “I -”

Another whisper begged, “Kiss me.”

Conflicted but resistant, Maura held on. Sadly, she said, “No.”

The brunette tugged on the doctor’s hands, pulling their bodies ever closer, “Why?”

Maura couldn’t escape Jane’s burning gaze, and turned her eyes down to the scant space between them, “I’ve already ruined two marriages, Jane. I can’t be responsible for that again.”

Deflated, Jane loosened her grip and stepped away.

The moment Maura slipped free, she whispered, “I’m sorry” and fled next door to the autopsy suite.

The detective’s heart was in her feet and she wiped a palm over her face as leaden steps carried her slowly back out into the corridor and away. Sullen and disappointed, she barely acknowledged the passing criminalist until she heard her name being spoken.

“Huh?”

Susie was smiling but appeared nervous, “I said are you still working the Beechgrove cases, too?”

Frowning, Jane asked, “What do mean, **_too_**?”

Pointing towards Maura’s office, she explained, “Dr. Isles. She’s managing the evidence for the assaults. I know that’s not **_your_** area but I thought maybe…”

“Is that why you’re here?” Jane interrupted.

“Yeah, she’s been a slave driver these past few weeks, had me in here every weekend re-examining all the injury photos, matching bruise patterns and cataloguing every detail.” She blew a big puff of air out from between her lips, exhausted. “She’s _really_ gonna nail the Bannister case, though. Those nurses aren’t gonna know what hit ‘em.”

The criminalist’s pun was truly dreadful but still garnered a tiny snicker from the brunette. Then the detective’s eyebrows rose, _the Bannister case?_ “Eddie Bannister? I didn’t know she was dealing with that.”

Susie shrugged, “She didn’t want to take any chances with the prosecution I guess and I don’t mind working extra hours; she pays pretty good overtime. That poor guy had no family so I think she felt sorry for him.” The criminalist gave another shrug as she walked backwards away from the detective, “Even though he was a bit shirty by all accounts.”

Jane laughed, turning determinedly back the way she’d just come. Smiling fondly, she let out a long breath, “I bet he was. Bitchy old queen.” She lengthened her stride and straightened her shoulders, walking tall for the first time in days. She’d left the assault cases alone after Cavanaugh had convinced her it’d be taken care of, but Maura hadn’t said anything either. The doctor’s kindness never ceased to amaze her. The woman was thoughtful, caring… _amazing_ , and Jane couldn’t just walk away without a fight.

She found Maura back in her office and this time she didn’t hesitate to sweep into the room exactly like she owned it and everything it contained. Closing the door with some force, she startled the Medical Examiner into a spin, turning to face the determined detective with an expression of shock.

Jane sighed, “My marriage was ruined long before you came back.”

The pause between speech and movement wasn’t long enough for the doctor to take action, but any ideas she’d had about declining the attractive brunette’s advances again flew out of her along with the air in her lungs as Jane’s glorious lips met hers. Self-control abandoned, Maura allowed Jane to guide them both a short distance across the room until Maura’s ass met the edge of her desk.

Pressing ever forward, the brunette swept her hands up and around Maura’s body, causing a series of arousing moans from both women, until she was cupping the doctor’s face at the jaw.

Long fingers tickled at the hair behind her ears, sending a shudder rippling down Maura’s spine.

As their passionate kiss broke naturally and Jane pulled away with her eyes closed, the blonde took a moment to breathe and to steady herself. Her voice was low and scratchy as she regarded the toothy grin that developed on the detective’s face, “Jane.” Her breath caught in her throat when the taller woman opened her eyes, moist and sparkling. “This isn’t a good idea.”

Jane’s wanting mouth descended upon the doctor again as she whispered, “I think it’s a very good idea.”

For days and weeks, ever since Maura’s revelation, Jane’s private desires had swung wildly back and forth like a pendulum. On the one hand, she wanted to nurture and protect her cherished friendship, to preserve its stability, to ensure the continued existence of the one thing she couldn’t do without. But on the other hand, she yearned for more, wished for the confidence that would allow her to gamble, for the courage to take her friendship and place it upon the playing table, wait for the flop, and hope she wouldn’t get swept away by the river. In private, thoughts of Maura and what they could be together had threatened to drown her.

Now, wet tongues slid against one another amidst caressing plump lips and nipping teeth and the only solid thought in Jane’s head was the question of why she hadn’t been all in since the beginning.

Both women were smiling; their eyes wide open, absorbing every detail even as they continued to share passionate kisses.

Jane’s hands grasped blonde hair, pulling the doctor into her fiercely, claiming her, and Maura allowed it.

Melting underneath the heat of the brunette, the doctor whimpered; no one had ever desired her this ardently, driven her arousal so quickly, or inflamed her lonely heart so fully.

Maura’s hands moved from Jane’s back to press gently against the detective’s chest. As much as she wanted this to continue, she didn’t want her own rapidly-escalating desires to overtake Jane’s unconfirmed intentions. She was about to give them pause in order to ask what Jane wanted, was trying to summon the determination to break from Jane’s consuming mouth, when a clipboard hit the floor by the doorway and they snapped apart, both turning to the source of the noise.

Susie Chang stood in her blue lab coat, mouth agape, sheets of paper fluttering to the ground around her feet. Jane and Maura stared at her for several long seconds until the criminalist bent down to quickly retrieve her report. “I’ll just, er -” She pointed back towards the lab, “I’ll come back later.”

The lab assistant disappeared quickly around the corner and Jane stepped away from the doctor once more, a full palm covering her red face as she grumbled, “Shit!”


	11. Chapter 11

Monday morning came far too soon for the detective, her cellphone waking her long before she needed to rise.

Jane made a grab for the offending device with her eyes closed, fingernails scrambling on the bedside table. As she located it and swept it from the surface, Casey’s handwritten note fluttered to the floor. _Staying with a friend_ is all it had said, and she’d shed no tears over spending some time alone after leaving Maura in a panic and arriving back at her apartment to find it on the bed.

She slid her finger across the screen, took a peek at the caller ID and settled back into her pillow with a sigh, cursing the unwarranted disturbance.

“Hey, Ma,” she yawned, propping an extra pillow behind her head.

_“Don’t **Hey, Ma** me, young lady! I think you have some serious explaining to do.”_

The brunette scowled, “What are you talking about?”

_“You! Putting it about with that… that… **woman**!”_

With no time to react, Jane sputtered, “What -?” _Oh god._

_“I get to the café and there’s a couple of lab techs gossiping about Dr. Isles, about how she got caught kissing in her office, and I go to get them some coffee but I overhear the name Rizzoli and I’m thinking, oh, how wonderful, Frankie got himself a girlfriend! Maybe he met her when he was on duty and maybe he’s keeping secrets from me because its early days and he doesn’t want to jinx it, or maybe he’s a little embarrassed ‘cause she’s a bit older than he is and...”_

Angela didn’t stop for breath and Jane’s heart was beating wildly in her chest. This wasn’t going to end well.

_“… then, not ten seconds later, I find out it was YOU!”_

“Ma, I can explain -” Jane tried, but Angela didn’t listen, she just kept on yelling.

_“What were you thinking? How can I show my face at church now? I knew I should have put a stop to all the tomboy stuff when you were old enough to know better. It’s my fault for having you grow up with two brothers. I mean, look at how you dress, Jane. Is it any wonder she forced herself on you, the signals you give off?!”_

With a vein pulsating in her temple, Jane shouted back, getting her mother’s attention, “MA! You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

_“It’s a sin, Janie. Do you hear me? It’s not right. I can’t believe you’ve done this to your family -”_

The detective ended the call with a huff, turning and pressing her face into a pillow. Her screams were muffled as she beat the duvet with a fist, cursing both Susie Chang, with her inability to be discreet, and Maura Isles, with her delectable fucking lips and perfect... everything.

oOo

Jane parked her car outside BPD on Monday morning dreading the inevitable; she’d have to see her mother. She could try to avoid it by sending someone else to get her coffee, but Angela would just track her down eventually and she was loathe to have any kind of personal conversation in the middle of the bullpen.

Gritting her teeth, she took the front steps two at a time and walked straight into the café, determined to face the music on her own terms. She waited in line for a long moment, her hands clasped in front of her belt buckle, standing tall and trying to act normal, but on reaching the cash register she was cowed by her mother’s deathly expression.

“Detective,” Angela snapped.

So that’s how it was going to be. She wasn’t really surprised; Angela Rizzoli was a world-class sulker and as ridiculous as the situation was, Jane had evidently disappointed her. “The usual, please, Ma.”

Angela filled a large cardboard cup with coffee from the pot and slammed it on the counter. “That’ll be two dollars.”

Jane felt around her pockets, cursing expletives under her breath when she came up empty. _Shit, not again_. “I think I left my wallet in the car. Can I -”

Angela slid the cup out of reach before reaching around and viciously tapping a sign that was taped to the cash register. She raised a daring eyebrow and pursed her lips as Jane read the words _We do not give credit_.

Sighing, the brunette turned and stomped away. She exited the café in a huff, almost shoulder-barging a civilian in the foyer in her haste, before shoving the main entrance door open on her way back to her car.

Upon reaching the sidewalk her mouth was agape in shock and she held out her hands in despair. ”Come on!” Carl, the parking attendant and her previously fawning admirer, was busy helping Mo hook up her Crown Vic to his tow truck. “What the hell, man?”

“You’re in a no parking zone, Rizzoli,” Carl barked as he turned to look at her. Sweeping his eyes up and down her with distain, his top lip curled in disgust, he accused, “You should’a known better.”

“I need my wallet!” She reached for the driver’s door but he moved to block her.

He slapped a small slip of paper onto her chest with his palm, leaning in to speak quietly as she turned her head away, grimacing at his nasty breath, “You can pay the fine when you collect it from the impound lot.” He added an extra snarl before following Mo to the cab of the truck. “Try and take it like a **_man_** , Detective.”

Growling and balling her fists, she scrunched up the paper and jammed it into her jacket pocket before turning to head back inside.

She was without any cash and, more importantly, without any caffeine, so, when the elevator didn’t arrive fast enough, she slammed open the door to the stairwell and began an angry trudge up several stories.

Her cellphone indicated a text message after the first couple of flights and she stopped on the landing to read it. She ought to have known her mother’s first course of action would be to call her father but the message still stung her terribly.

_Angela told me what you did, Jane. Don’t come to family dinner until you’ve straightened yourself out._

With a sudden well of tears in her eyes, Jane wiped a hand over her face and sighed. His reaction wasn’t a surprise either but the detached coldness and rejection of it still hurt.

Reaching the bullpen, she nodded a greeting toward Korsak and Frost in turn and silently sat down at her desk. She’d barely begun reading the first email in her inbox when her cellphone rang. There was a dual sense of relief and foreboding when she saw that it is was her neighbour calling. It wasn’t one of her parents, which was good, but it was somewhat unusual to hear from the young woman across the hall.

“Hey, Melissa. What’s up?”

The young girl sounded a bit perturbed, _“Um… Hi, Jane. I just wanted to check – there’s a lot of noise coming from your apartment, like banging and stuff and I wasn’t sure if you had some contractors in or something?”_

“In **_my_** apartment? No. There shouldn’t be – wait… what kind of banging?”

 _“I dunno, like…”_ She paused and Jane’s mind whirled at the possibilities of what she was going to say next. _“… to be honest it sounds like somebody’s tearing up the place.”_

Jane’s stomach flipped and she shot out of her desk chair. “I’ll be right there.”

She was halfway to the door when she screeched to a halt. Turning to the two men, her eyes on the ceiling in disbelief, she groaned, “My car got towed.”

Frost rolled his eyes and looked over at Korsak who nodded permission. Grabbing his jacket Frost made his way to the door, where Jane clapped him on the shoulder and quietly said, “Thanks, buddy. I owe you one.”

oOo

Exiting from the passenger side, Jane looked inquisitively over the roof of the car as Frost got out and stepped up onto the sidewalk.

He scoffed, reading her eyes, “If you think I’m letting you go in there alone you’re crazy. Not after the last time your place got turned over.”

He had a point. The last time her place had been trashed there was a maniacal serial killer on the loose and the female detective had been attacked by the psychopath.

Still she wanted to argue, suspecting a more domestic issue, but her pause to find the words without giving the game away was sufficient time for him to add, “We’ll check it out together, okay?”

Nodding, she breathed out a sigh of consent and followed the young detective into the apartment building.

At the top of the stairs they could clearly see Jane’s front door ajar and could hear someone inside. Frost, taking point, withdrew his service weapon and crept up to the doorway, his shoulder pressed against the doorframe. With a jerk of his head, he signalled Jane to pass, her weapon also in hand, and they burst through the doorway simultaneously.

Jane gasped as Frost yelled, “POLICE!”

The interior was a mess. She picked her way through the apartment, stepping over couch cushions, a broken lamp, smashed dishes and fractured photo frames, trying not to disturb anything with her footsteps.

There were noises coming from the bedroom and, as Frost barrelled through the living area, Jane pushed the door open.

The brunette instantly deflated, lowering her weapon to her side, as she discovered Casey packing a suitcase, the bedroom seemingly dismantled around him.

“What the hell, Casey?!” She stared wide-eyed, her gaze sweeping across the room littered with clothes, empty dresser drawers, twisted coat hangers, and discarded personal possessions.

The soldier ignored her and continued to slam items angrily into the open luggage atop their disaster-strewn bed.

She turned to look back at Frost who was still rigidly covering her back and quietly asked, “Can you give us a minute?”

He glanced into the bedroom and back to Jane with a nod, “I’ll be outside.” Turning back at the front door, he seemed poised to ask a question but Jane waved him away.

“I’ll be fine. Go wait downstairs.”

Frost disappeared, closing the door behind him and Jane closed her eyes for a beat, dreading the altercation to come. She holstered her gun and stepped slowly into the bedroom, “Casey? What are you doing?”

He didn’t look up at the detective but she could see the blush of his skin, the redness of rage that tinted his face, the sheen of sweat that hung on his brow. All the while he continued to roughly grab and shove his belongings into the case, “What am I **_doing_**?! I’m **_leaving_** , that’s what I’m doing. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

Her automatic response was to blurt, “What? No -”

“You wanted me gone so, congratulations! I got my medical clearance and I’m not sticking around to watch you humiliate me while you… you… kiss other women and… you… Has this been going on the whole time?”

“No, Casey. I didn’t -”

“You didn’t want to sleep with me ‘cause you’re a dyke, is that it? All along you’ve been denying it and then I find out from your dad, that you…” He shook his head and scoffed before slamming closed the suitcase closed and looking up at her with venomous tears in his eyes. “You’re sick, y’know that? And you fucking lied to me.”

Silent tears rolled down Jane’s face, sympathy for the pain Casey was obviously feeling, justified or not. This ending, unintentional and unfortunate, was also, in Jane’s mind, inevitable. The guilt of having kissed someone who wasn’t her husband ate at Jane’s insides, burning her gut and churning her stomach, and the honest truth, the lack of devastation when she heard Casey say he was leaving, froze any counter-argument in her throat. The only thing she could do was croak brokenly, “I’m so sorry.”

He laughed once, disbelieving, and lugged the case toward the doorway. Stopping just inches in front of her he grabbed her hand with one of his and fished around in his jeans pocket with the other. Jabbing his wedding ring into her palm, he whispered, “I’m not.”

She watched him leave, her feet rooted to the spot, and flinched as the front door slammed closed. Falling back into the bedroom door frame, Jane sobbed, allowing the emotion that had built within her chest to bubble up and pour out. She slid down onto the floor, her eyes closed to the ruins of her life, a hand pressed to her chest trying to stem the flow of tears and ragged breaths as if they were a bleeding gunshot wound.

Ten long minutes passed as Jane sat, calming her heart and surveying the mess Casey had left. The mess she had caused. Picking up the pieces of her shattered personal life and her broken possessions wasn’t going to be pleasant, and, she knew, there would be further fights along the way. But something in her gut felt right now, freer. She was open to moving on.

When her cellphone rang it was Frost checking up on her, _“I saw him leave but when you didn’t come out I started to get worried. Are you okay?”_

She smiled, grateful to have such a caring friend, then standing up she took a deep, decisive breath, wiped the dust off her butt and said resolutely, “I will be.”

oOo

Back at BPD Jane and Frost took separate elevators; he went back up to Homicide as she descended to the morgue.

During the short ride she wiped her face, flicked unruly waves out of her eyes with long fingers and then shook out her hands.

Maura was in her office, sat behind her desk with the door open when Jane approached. She knocked tentatively on the doorframe before walking in, trying to appear more upbeat than she felt, “You busy?”

The blonde smiled sweetly - if she was surprised to see her friend again so soon it didn’t show – and shook her head. “No. What’s up?” Her response was chipper, expecting something work-related.

Somewhat cryptically, Jane quizzed, “How much notice does the on-call M.E. need in order to cover?”

The blonde didn’t hesitate, “Mm, none. I can just make a phone call. Why?”

Jane’s face morphed into a gentle smile as she asked, “Can you get away for a few days?”


	12. Chapter 12

The little cabin that Maura had found for them in Rockport, Maine was compact but the tasteful décor and large windows made it feel much more spacious, connecting them to the bay view outside and a vast, serene swathe of water dotted with small boats.

It was the best the doctor could do at such short notice and despite wishing they had something a little more luxurious, she was happy just for the quality time alone with her best friend.

They had made the journey in just over three hours without stopping and Maura was glad to be out of the car. The coastal location was close enough to home that travelling – and contending with midday traffic - hadn’t been a problem but it was far enough away that they wouldn’t be discovered or interrupted. She was glad now that Jane had insisted they pack and leave almost immediately.

Jane had been unusually quiet during the drive, just staring out of the passenger window and clutching Maura’s free hand in her lap. Something monumental had obviously happened and though Maura knew they’d have to talk about it eventually, she didn’t want to push. The detective always talked more openly when given the chance to do so in her own time. It wasn’t like her to stew though, so every little sniffle that the blonde caught and the brunette tried to cover up caused more concern and she squeezed Jane’s hand hoping to provide some comfort.

They’d barely dropped their bags onto the only bed in the cabin when the detective’s walls had crashed down around her feet and she’d cried openly, the weight of the day’s events falling away. Maura had wrapped her up in strong arms and patiently waited, the silence broken only by sobs and loud breaths as one hand rubbed at Jane’s back and the other tenderly cupped the back of her head.

Now, with Jane’s tears drying and her breaths evening out, the doctor couldn’t help but ask, “Do you want to tell me what happened, Jane?” She released their embrace and leaned back, allowing Jane the space to wipe her face and rub a finger under her nose.

“Yeah,” she nodded, still sniffling. “Yeah, I do.”

The two sat heavily on a small couch underneath the window and Maura reached for Jane’s hand, rubbing her thumb encouragingly across knuckles and soft, tanned skin.

“I’ve ruined everything, Maur’, well… almost everything, and now my parents hate me.” One glance at Maura’s expression, full of concern and confusion, made her clarify the major points in one quick burst, “It’s all over the precinct, that Susie saw us kissing. Ma found out, Pop disowned me, and Casey left after trashing the apartment.” Starting to cry again, Jane croaked out the most hurtful of all the insults that had been flung at her, “I’m sick, apparently, a disgrace and a sinner.”

The cold fingers of guilt slithered under Maura’s skin and tears welled in her eyes. “Jane, I -”

The brunette stared straight ahead, “Everyone at BPD will find out I’m the dyke detective they always thought I was -”

Maura fought down the lump in her throat, tried to release Jane’s hand as she stood to put space between them and whispered brokenly, “I’m so sorry,” but Jane held on.

Looking up into the blonde’s dejected face the brunette knew Maura was blaming herself. “But as much as I’m terrified right now… of the fallout… at the prospect of losing more friends… I don’t feel sick, I feel… relieved.”

The doctor relaxed a little at that and sat back down.

Jane smiled before continuing to speak softly, “I’m sorry for the way this all happened, it’s not ideal by any means, and I’m sorry if it causes you any problems by association, but… I’m **_not_** sorry… that Casey is gone… and I’m **_not_** sorry for kissing you.”

Maura’s eyebrows shot up and she squeaked, trembling, “You aren’t?”

Tears began to race down the blonde’s pale face as Jane professed, “Being near you… kissing you… is the only thing that’s felt right in a long time.” Maura was holding her breath as Jane finished, “I loved kissing you… I love… everything about you.”

Stifling a sob that was her heart’s way of trying to escape the confines of her chest, the doctor shook her head, “But I thought… you said everything was ruined, I mean you -”

“Almost,” Jane blurted. Smiling through her own tears, the detective reached up to wipe her thumbs across the blonde’s wet cheeks, “I said **_almost_** everything. Not you, never you. But you ruined stuff too y’know.”

Jane rested her forehead against Maura’s and the doctor’s eyes fluttered shut, her mind replaying recent memories. Whirling recollections sent her dizzy; the swoop of her stomach the first time their lips met, the skipped beat of her heart as they were caught, the sting of her eyes as Jane had left, left the room, left her reeling.

Strong hands slipped down to caress Maura’s delicate neck and Jane breathed, “You ruined me the second you kissed me back.”

A ragged sob escaped her this time and the doctor didn’t care. She smiled through broken breaths and opened her eyes to find Jane beaming at her. She lifted a hand to gently stroke Jane’s face, her eyes sweeping over every inch, every line, and as Jane’s face turned to press lips into her palm she whispered, “I should never have left.”

The brunette’s response was instant, “I should never have let you.”

There was no fight from the blonde, no want to run, no reason to refuse when the detective next spoke, there was only willingness, wishing and want.

“Kiss me.”

oOo

It was a couple of hours later when, with Jane’s head safely burrowed in the crook of Maura’s neck and two strong arms latched firmly around her torso, the doctor had decided they couldn’t stay like this forever.

They’d made out for a while, sweetly, slowly, and talked for a while longer. Jane had even managed to close her eyes for twenty minutes with Maura hypnotically stroking her hair.

“I think we could both do with some fresh air. Would you like to go for a walk with me?”

Outwardly, Jane grumbled, her disgruntled expression meant to convey her dissatisfaction at their parting, at having to release one another from their embrace, and not at the act of going for a walk, which she inwardly thought was quite a romantic invitation.

Maura chuckled at the detective’s impressive pout and muttered, “Come on. I’ll get your jacket.” Swatting a long-legged thigh, she twisted her hips and made to get up, forcing Jane to unfold herself and do the same.

Several additional crying bouts over events in general, and her mother’s behaviour more specifically, hadn’t helped the usual huskiness that left Jane gravel-throated, and she coughed gently before asking, “Do you think we could grab something to eat?”

Neither of them had stopped to grab lunch amongst all the commotion, nor had they picked up any groceries on the way. The doctor scolded herself internally for the oversight until the humour of it washed over her a second later; as in life, as in matters of the heart, she was never quite so woefully unprepared as she was when it came to Jane Rizzoli.

She turned to the other woman, smiling, and offered a leading hand, “Of course we can.”

oOo

A short stroll turned into a substantial walk, and they soon found themselves exploring far more of the shoreline than planned, albeit still at a leisurely pace. Dinner had been plates of delightfully fresh seafood at a little shack, where eating without utensils was acceptable if not preferable and both women had never felt more sated and at ease.

The long walk back was just as pleasant and the couple chatted easily, their fingers intertwined or their elbows linked the entire way. A chilly breeze had rolled in with the setting sun but they didn’t hurry. Never short of something to talk about, their little cabin had snuck up on them without warning, the evening over far too soon. With dinner well digested and the world put to rights, Jane’s world at any rate, they headed inside.

With little to do but turn in for the night, Maura swept up her overnight bag and disappeared into the bathroom.

Usually she hated waiting, but as Jane flicked through the channels on the little television in the corner of the room she waited calmly, patiently. She waited for the nervousness to start, for panic to suffuse her limbs, she waited for the rush of adrenaline to urge her to flee, for uncertainty and niggling self-doubt to tell her this wasn’t what Maura wanted, that she wasn’t good enough. But it never came. And she wouldn’t run.

She wanted this, deserved it, and she knew Maura wanted it too, believed it in her every muscle fibre. She was good enough, they both were. They’d been good enough for each other since the beginning but neither them nor anyone else had ever seen it. So many years wasted that Jane wasn’t about to let anything, including herself, get in the way of making the best of this and having every precious minute count.

Maura exited the bathroom amidst a billowing cloud of steam, “Bathroom’s free.”

Springing up from the little couch, Jane ran her eyes over the familiar sight of her best friend in silk pyjamas, before grabbing a small bag of toiletries and grinning, “Be right back.”

Short minutes later Jane walked back into the room, fresh faced, skin glowing, and wearing only her matching black underwear. Maura looked up from where she sat on the bed, cross-legged atop the sheets, reading a magazine, and sucked in a startled breath. “Oh.”

Jane walked straight towards the bed, determination permeating the room with every step, strangling the air in Maura’s lungs. As her knees hit the comforter and she crawled up to meet Maura face-to-face, planting her hands beside Maura’s thighs, she smiled sweetly and said, “Hi.”

Flinging the magazine onto the floor, Maura leaned back slightly, holding her weight on her hands, and Jane followed by leaning further into her personal space. Hazel eyes dragged the full length of Jane’s beautiful body and she suddenly remembered to breathe, “H-Hi.”

Sensing she’d knocked the blonde a little off balance with her uncharacteristic forwardness, the brunette paused awhile, running a hand over Maura’s cheek, sweeping golden locks behind her ear and letting her fingers linger. “Nervous?”

“No,” Maura replied quickly, before correcting and dipping her eyes in embarrassment, “Yes.” Reaching up and latching onto Jane’s wrist, she added, “I’m nervous about this, but not that it’s you.”

Leaning in to close the gap, Jane barely brushed Maura’s lips with a kiss, “Me too.”

The detective was about to lean in again, pushing the doctor further back on her hands, when a palm at her chest halted the movement. Maura’s voice was firm but still gentle, offering a final escape and insuring her own heart in the process, “Jane, are you sure about this? I’ve only been back a few weeks.”

Jane opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out, the irony of how naïve she’d been when she’d first heard about Pike had just hit her square in the chest. It was true. Maura had left a long time ago and had only recently returned, so it seemed too soon for such strong feelings to have developed. Maybe there had been something there before, maybe not, she had no time to waste dwelling on it, she felt this way now and the rest didn’t matter. A dark eyebrow rose and she smirked, still hovering over the smaller woman, “A very wise friend of mine once said… ‘sometimes you just know, y’know?’”

Maura lay back then, suitably reassured, before reaching up and pulling Jane’s body to hers. She spoke in a breath that passed between their smiling mouths, lips brushing, “I **_do_** know.”

Jane settled fully atop the doctor, kissing her passionately and pressing her body into the mattress. Hands roamed over Maura’s soft curves, sliding over silk-covered shoulders, gliding over shimmering ribs and nudging the undersides of plump breasts.

Planting her knees either side of Maura’s thighs, Jane sat up, her fingers smoothing over the warm skin of Maura’s abdomen and toying with the hem of her ruby pyjama top.

Anticipating its removal, Maura reached to turn out the bedside lamp, but Jane stopped her.

“Don’t,” she whispered.

With the detective’s fingers wrapped around her wrist, the doctor allowed herself to be pulled up, effectively sitting with the brunette straddling her lap. It had been a long time since she’d been this vulnerable and it took great effort to remind herself that this was Jane, not Ruth or Ian, who was currently asking to strip her of her last protective layer.

“I want to see you.”

Maura breathed and, after a short pause, nodded softly. Warm fingers left her body and she raised her arms, closing her eyes as the article was swept up and quickly discarded over the side of the bed, revealing her nakedness underneath.

Jane wasted no time in crashing their lips back together, mumbling, “You’re gorgeous,” amidst licks and nips of teeth. The breath left Maura’s lungs in one great burst as Jane quickly removed her bra, pressed their breasts together and pushed them both back down into the bed.

As the brunette’s mouth took a detour across the blonde’s jaw, moist lips sucking at her earlobe and meandering down her sensitive neck, Maura gasped and squirmed with delight. She palmed Jane’s shoulder blades and pulled her ever tighter, and as Jane’s hips shifted and a leg pushed in between Maura’s, the smaller woman couldn’t help but shudder.

“Oh god,” she moaned. “I’ve dreamt about this since…” She didn’t know when, if she was honest. She frantically worked her way backwards, analysing memories, trying to find a time when she hadn’t been inexplicably drawn to the brunette in some way. There wasn’t one. “Since -”

Jane stole the words right out of her mouth and their eyes locked as Maura nodded once, “Since that first day in the café.”


	13. Chapter 13

Maura’s hips thrust upward to meet Jane’s, wrenching another moan from her throat, the pleasure of pressure on her sex shattering her already fractured composure. As the brunette’s left hand found and vigorously palmed a generous breast, the blonde thought she was going to crawl out of her own skin with arousal. Dissatisfied at the material still providing a barrier between their lower bodies, the doctor pushed at Jane’s shoulder with her right palm, twisted her hips, swept her right leg over, and confidently switched their positions.

For a beat she grinned down at Jane, enjoying the reciprocated smile and brief flash of surprise in dark eyes, before kissing the detective’s luscious mouth once more.

Impatience overruling her desire to savour, Maura ran her fingers down Jane’s sides. They skimmed ribs and hip bones, hooked an elastic waistband and continued down as far as she could reach, dragging Jane’s panties halfway down her thighs.

Patience would come later, for now it was Jane’s turn to groan as Maura’s hands reached up and quickly down again, taking her silk pyjama bottoms with them. It was the little lift up, the removal of her body weight, the creation of a space between their bodies in order to be able to remove the clothing that gave Jane’s lungs a free second to fill with air, with anticipation.

It was the resettling of Maura’s body atop hers a second later, with bare legs, bare hips, and bare sex that forced that air from Jane in one quick blast. “Holy shit,” she gasped, clutching at Maura’s bare ass cheeks with both hands. As she pulled Maura’s sex to hers, one of the blonde’s hands cupped the back of her head and their foreheads came together.

As they moved against each other, gasping and breathing into each other’s mouths, Jane couldn’t stop the wetness that gathered in her eyes. “You feel so good, Maura,” she whispered.

Maura nodded, overwhelmed at how perfect this was, even after so many years apart, at how it suddenly seemed destined or fated even to the steadfastly sceptical scientist. At the vast explosion of emotion within her, something heretofore only partially released no matter how much she might have been convinced otherwise at certain times in her life, the doctor couldn’t halt the words that spilled out of her without permission, “I – I think I’m in love with you.”

Their hips continued to rock as Jane moved a hand to mirror Maura’s grip around the back of her head. Grasping golden locks and staring into the terrified depths of hazel eyes, the detective shifted her left leg to press more forcefully against Maura’s sex.

With a sharp inhale, the smaller woman widened her legs and felt rather than saw the nod of Jane’s head against her own. Wanting lips claimed her again, a wet tongue pressing and sweeping into her mouth as she moaned in pleasure.

Jane flipped them over again, kneeling up to remove panties and pyjama bottoms in one quick flash, “I’ve never wanted anyone like I want you.”

As the detective covered her once more, the brunette’s warm mouth made contact with the skin of Maura’s breast and she gasped, tilting her head back, pushing it into the pillow. Clutching fistfuls of dark locks, she whispered, “You have me.”

Few words were spoken for long minutes except for prayers of release amidst mutterings of pleasure. _Oh yes, oh god, oh fuck._

Jane came first, shuddering, hips jerking erratically, her sex pressed against Maura’s thigh, as the blonde breathed shakily, soaking up the sounds of wetness as the two moved together.

The brunette forced herself to keep moving through laboured breaths, limbs heavy with delight, as Maura claimed her left hand and moved it between their legs. Long fingers found velvety skin and quickly explored, coating themselves in the blonde’s arousal. Fascinated and craving, she flattened several fingers together and focused on the doctor’s hard nub, rubbing, circling, flicking, until Maura came undone, gasping, clawing at her back with a long drawn out moan.

They made love again and again. And it was exactly that for Jane. Not sex. Love. It was life-changing, mind-blowing, and she knew nothing would ever be the same again. Maura had changed her outlook on life with the first few touches.

oOo

Their two-day trip soon became four, which then became six, partly due to Jane’s unerring logic that Maura had paid for the cabin for an entire week anyway and but mainly due to Maura’s admission that she’d love nothing more than to stay there wrapped up in Jane forever.

With the doctor delegating work across her team and relying on the on-call M.E. for cover, all the detective had to do was make use of her abundance of banked vacation time, and she did so gladly.

The two women spent their additional days walking, enjoying the sea air, dining out, and lying in each other’s arms. It was easy, effortless. Like heaven.

But Sunday morning brought with it a message from Constance that she was needed at short notice in Paris for an art show and would be leaving first thing Monday. Disappointed, though she knew it would have had to come to an end anyway, Jane packed their small overnight bags into the car. As they left their little love cabin behind, she gripped Maura’s free hand in her lap, a move reminiscent of their outbound journey, but one that had totally different meaning now.

She was headed back to town, proudly and unapologetically, with her girlfriend, and they were going to say farewell to Maura’s mother properly and together.

oOo

When they’d agreed on the way home to head straight for Jane’s apartment they were expecting to find it empty.

The plan was for Jane to switch out her overnight bag with clean work clothes, dump the dirty laundry, and join Maura for Constance’s farewell. But their entire plan teetered precariously upon the cliff edge that appeared in the form of Angela Rizzoli in tears on Jane’s couch.

The second Jane approached her front door she knew something was wrong, the sound of the television forcing her heartbeat to double-time and her palms to sweat. Believing it to be Casey, she quietly asked Maura to wait in the hallway as she ducked quickly inside.

As the occupant was revealed to be her mother, the detective, still gripping the door handle with one hand, looked back over her shoulder and jerked her head, silently inviting the blonde inside.

Tentatively, Jane set her bag down on the floor and tiptoed towards the couch, “Ma?”

Angela turned to look at both women, her eyes puffy and red, her cheeks stained with tears and her bottom lip trembling.

Something told the detective this wasn’t about her sapphic revelation anymore. A glance around the living room indicated her mother had been staying there, several packed duffle bags piled against one wall, as well as other signs that this wasn’t a fleeting visit. “What are you doing here? What’s going on?”

“Where’s Casey?” Angela sniffed angrily no longer looking at her daughter.

Well, maybe her detective skills were on the blink after all. “He, er… he left.”

“Thought so,” snapped the older woman. “As I was tidying up the place I noticed his stuff was gone.”

Jane’s eyes swept the room again, everything that had been broken, scattered and abandoned across the floor and surfaces had vanished. “You didn’t have to do that,” Jane offered, “But thank you.”

Angela sniffed again and dabbed at her nose with a kleenex. “I came looking for him after I found out -”

Stepping around the arm of the couch, Jane interrupted, “I would have told you, Ma, I just needed some time -”

Expecting another ear-bashing about her sinful ways, about what a disgrace she was to the family, about how she’d always let down her mother and here she was doing it again in the worst possible way, Jane was shocked into silence when Angela next spoke.

“Good riddance.”

With wide eyes, the brunette turned to Maura, who had been silently observing from behind, her expression saying everything her voice couldn’t. _What the hell?_

“I don’t -” Jane stuttered. “I don’t understand what’s going on, Ma. Why were you here looking for Casey?”

“He knew, apparently,” Angela sneered, “… about your father.”

“What about pop?”

“I caught him… the lying, cheating bastard… with Carla Talucci! He made excuses, said he was servicing her plumbing, well… he was servicing her alright.”

Jane’s eyes were bulging out of her head and she held a hand over her gaping mouth as her mother continued to spew.

“And she wasn’t the only one. He’s been porking some blonde tart half his age, too…” Angela blew her nose, crying fully once more, then gestured towards the pile of bags by the wall, “It’s all over. I tried kicking him out but he wouldn’t leave. So I packed some stuff…”

Tears and ragged breaths overcame her mother as Jane sat down beside her on the couch and wrapped her up in a tight hug. She cooed and shushed into the older woman’s hair as anger and tears welled in her own eyes. “It’ll be okay, ma. I promise. It’ll be okay.”

Deciding to make herself useful, Maura moved towards the kitchen and called softly, “I’ll make some tea.”

As Angela pulled herself away, drying her tears, and Jane reached for a box of tissues, the older woman sighed, “It’s probably a good thing Casey wasn’t here when I arrived, you might have had another homicide to deal with.”

Jane snorted, thanking god for her badly-timed joke genes, clearly inherited from her mother, “Not funny, ma.” Though it was mildly funny, in truth, and helped lighten the mood.

“Well…” Angela drawled, looking like she might have been only half joking.

Turning serious, Jane leaned in and placed a hand on her mother’s arm, “I’m sorry he did that to you. I swear I didn’t know.”

Patting her daughter’s hand, Angela sighed, “I know, baby. It’s not your fault.” Turning more fully to Jane, she added, “I’m sorry I was so mean to you. You’re a good person and now I know you’re better off without him.”

“I am, ma.” Jane turned her head to watch Maura re-enter the room carrying a tray of cups and a teapot Jane only vaguely recognised, her eyes following the blonde until she set the tray down on the coffee table.

Angela’s eyes never left Jane. She watched her daughter, saw a feint blush emerge on her cheeks, caught the sparkle in her eye, the smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

Catching herself, Jane blinked and looked back to Angela with a smile, “I really am.”

“How long have you been here, Angela?” asked Maura, pouring tea before sitting by the elder Rizzoli at the other end of the couch.

“Three days.” At the sight of Jane’s eyebrows rising in surprise, she continued, “I know, I’ll have to go home and deal with Frank at some point but… I was just too angry to stay there, y’know?”

Jane relaxed, she really couldn’t gripe at Angela’s obvious use of her emergency-only key, and certainly she was relieved there wasn’t still a mountain of tidying to get through. What else could she say? “Stay here as long as you need, okay?”

Handing steaming cups to the other two women, Maura enquired, “What will happen after you go home?”

“I dunno,” Angela sighed. “Frank said he wanted to sell the house, said he’s moving to Florida with that… floozy.” Waving her free hand about for emphasis, she barked, “I told him over my dead body is he selling our family home.”

Jane winced, “But you don’t have the money to keep it by yourself, Ma.”

Waving a dismissal, the matriarch seemed to be taking everything in stride, “Oh I’ll think of something. Maybe Mr. Stanley can give me extra hours in the café.”

Jane looked to Maura over Angela’s head, her expression full of sorrow and doubt. There would come a day where Angela needed to hear the cold, hard truth of her situation; but today was not that day.

The doctor rubbed a hand over Angela’s shoulder, reading the worry in Jane’s dark brown eyes. If they stuck together they would find a way, but clearly this was going to be a long, hard road.

“We’ll think of something,” murmured the doctor, trying to comfort mother and daughter alike.

Exasperated, Angela blurted, “I just don’t understand why people can’t be honest.”

The look on Jane’s face and the way she bit the inside of her cheek told the blonde she was warring with herself; feelings of guilt about her own behaviour no doubt sparring with her anger over Casey and Frank. “It can be hard sometimes just admitting things to yourself and if that’s the case then it’s much more difficult to admit them to other people.”

“I see what you mean.” Angela paused, placing her tea down on the table. “My eyes have been opened to many things this week.” She chuckled sadly, “I never thought I’d be switching to a non-denominational church at my age either.”

Jane’s head snapped round, stunned, “What – what do you mean? You love going to St. Evilia’s.”

“You haven’t heard?”

The detective shook her head, “Heard what, ma?”

Angela pulled out a newspaper from beneath a pile of magazines under the coffee table and handed it to her daughter. The front page featured a large colour photo of Father Crowley dressed in bondage leathers and assless chaps, exiting what looked like the graffiti-covered steel door of a warehouse downtown. He looked startled, as if the photographer had taken him by surprise, and Jane’s expression was not dissimilar.

She held out the newspaper and Maura took it from her before reading out the headline, “Anti-gay water scandal priest discovered running underground gay brothel.” Hazel eyes were wide as she breathed, “Oh my.”

Angela stood, moving around the coffee table to face pair, pacing slightly and gesturing animatedly, “It’s like my reality has shifted. I used to think I was standing on solid ground but all the things I counted on aren’t real. It was all lies.” Not wanting her daughter to jump to conclusions, she raised flattened palms out in front of her, “Don’t get me wrong, I’ll always have my beliefs, but… my faith has taken a beating.” She stopped and planted her hands on her hips, her head hung low, ashamed, “I can’t sit in a church next to the woman who slept with my husband and I certainly won’t be listening to anymore judgemental sermons designed to make me feel bad about my life or – or… the people I love.”

When she looked up at Jane there were tears in her eyes again, but the tiny smile that creased the lines around her eyes filled her daughter with warmth.

There, Jane saw regret. Love Acceptance.

oOo

At the Dirty Robber that evening, as Jane ordered drinks at the bar, Angela sat in quiet conversation with Maura and Constance.

The older Isles woman patted her daughter’s thigh under the booth table, “I appreciate you cutting your vacation short to see me off, darling.”

“It’s the least I could do, mom,” Maura replied. “It’s been so wonderful having you here and I’m sorry you have to go.”

Seeing the shadow of uncertainty and nervousness in her daughter’s eyes, Constance reached for Maura’s hand, “I’ve enjoyed spending all this time with you but you’ll be fine without me, I’m sure.”

With a chuckle, Angela commented, “I have to say, Constance, having a daughter that genuinely enjoys you staying with her kinda makes me jealous.”

Both Isles women chuckled as Maura reached across the table to cover Angela’s hand, “When Jane said you could stay with her I really think she meant it.”

“Oh, I know, honey. It’s just been a long time. I think she was only two days out of the academy when she got her own place.”

Jane appeared at Angela’s side, placing a tray of drinks on the table, “It was three days and you still managed to delay my moving out by a month.”

“Well,” Angela drawled, embarrassed, “I didn’t like seeing my baby girl all grown up and leaving the nest.” She reached up to stroke Jane’s cheek, pushing an unruly lock of hair from the detective’s face, “I worried.”

Jane squirmed and rose a hand to swat her mother away, “Ma – Come on. Stop.”

Maura had taken three glasses of wine and one bottle of beer from the tray and placed them out in front of each woman on the table. Raising her own glass, she offered some words of thanks and of hope, “Well here’s to mothers and daughters. To time spent together and hopefully more time to come.”

Claiming her beer, Jane clinked it against Maura’s glass with a wide smile, “Hear, hear.”

Angela cleared her throat, looking from Jane to Maura and back again, “I appreciate you girls letting me tag along.”

In an uncharacteristic move that had Maura taken aback, Jane threw her arms around Angela and wrapped her in a tight hug. With her face hidden from view and her mouth buried in her mother’s dark hair, Jane whispered, “I would never abandon you, Ma.”

Exhaling sharply, Angela fought down the lump forming in her throat. The pain that shot across her chest was of her own making, it was shame and regret and she deserved it. There would be many more times, she was sure, that she would be faced with the evidence of just how good her daughter was, how loving, how forgiving, and she would find a way to feel worthy of her. Somehow. “Thank you, Jane.”

Releasing her mother, Jane blinked away the moisture in her eyes and took a long look at the older woman. With her eyebrows scrunched, she analysed the clothes, the posture, the expression; something already seemed different about her, better, improved. “You look good, Ma. Did you change something?”

The matriarch sighed, shrugged her shoulders and sipped her wine, “No, I just – I already feel lighter, y’know? Like I could get used to this; not having your father around. Like I’m free again.”

Maura smiled, tipping her glass towards the woman, “Well you look great, Angela. Is that a new blouse, too?”

Peering downwards and pinching the fabric, Angela replied, “Oh this? Frank didn’t like it, told me to take it back to the store. It was hanging on the bedroom door when I left and I just grabbed it on the way out.”

Constance added to the compliments, “It’s a very flattering outfit, Angela.”

Angela smiled, raising her glass towards the artist, “Thank you, Constance.”

“It’s fancier than the outfits you normally wear…” added Jane. Then after a pause in which she sipped her beer, trying not to smirk, “It’s not quite as fancy as Father Crowley’s, but…”

Angela gasped and slapped Jane’s arm as Maura snorted, cupping a hand over her mouth, unable to find the entire situation nothing but hilarious.

All four women fell into easy laughter. Everything was going to be okay.

“Sooo…” Jane drawled, picking at the label on her beer bottle before looking up to her mother. “You know there was never anything in the water, right?”

Indignant, Angela scoffed and drained her wine, “Of course I knew there was nothing in the water. Don’t be ridiculous.”

Jane smirked knowingly, allowing her mother the opportunity to save face, just as Maura piped up.

“Strictly speaking that’s not true. There are many things in our drinking water depending on the source; chlorine, fluoride, bacteria, pesticides, microbes like the Cryptosporidium parasite, methane from fracking processes, some heavy metals like aluminium sulphate which is used in water treatment…”

Constance listened to her daughter with pride but her eyes were drawn to the detective. Stealthily, she watched as Jane’s cheeks blushed, as her eyes gazed dreamily at the blonde, as her lips turned up into an amused little smile. She was certain there was a small amount of teasing there, that the brunette was still somewhat unaccustomed to her daughter’s penchant for informative, spur-of-the-moment lectures, but she was also sure she’d never seen anyone look at her daughter with quite so much love.

Coincidentally, Angela had caught it too, that look. It had taken her breath away at first glance. Nothing between Jane and Casey had ever been quite so obvious, so tangible, and so strong. If the beautiful blonde remained a part of this unconventional family then she’d be okay with that. She’d be better than okay, in fact, and she’d take immense pleasure in bragging to those all those shallow and bitchy former friends of hers at St. Evilia’s that her gorgeous daughter was dating a brilliant and stunning medical doctor.


	14. Chapter 14

SIX MONTHS LATER

Detective Jane Rizzoli strolled tiredly into the Division One café. “Hey, ma.”

“Oh, Janie, you look exhausted. You want some coffee?”

“Please,” Jane sighed, audibly demonstrating exactly how tired she felt as if the slump of her shoulders and hump of her back alone wouldn’t cut it. Rubbing a hand over her face, smothering some of her words, she grumbled, “This case just keep getting worse and worse. It’s like a nightmare.”

“I saw some reporters still hanging around outside.”

“They don’t help matters,” Jane growled, “pestering us for information every five minutes. I wish someone could get rid of them and just let us do our jobs.”

Angela was very sympathetic and gripped Jane’s forearm in solidarity after offering up a large steaming cup, “I’m sorry sweetheart.”

The detective patted her mother’s hand and smiled thankfully before taking a sip, “Not your fault, ma. I just want it to be over.”

“How’s Maura?”

Jane chuckled mirthlessly, “Honestly? I’m not sure, I haven’t seen much of her since this started.”

“I’ll bet.” Angela shook her head, “She works too hard, you both do.” Jane was just about to argue when Angela rolled her eyes and continued, her palms raised in pre-emptive surrender, “I know, I know, you love what you do and you get to put away the bad guys.” She pressed a kiss to Jane’s cheek and whispered, “I’m very proud of you both.”

“Thanks, Ma.” Jane turned to leave with a smile on her face. This right here, this new relationship with her mother, was something she could happily experience for the rest of her life and it filled her chest with warmth. Now, if she could just solve this latest mystery and get back to spending time alone with her girlfriend, she’d be a happy woman. Calling over her shoulder, she said, “Keep your fingers crossed we don’t have any more bodies today.”

Angela had already turned to serve the next person in line but she called to Jane all the same, “Will do, sweetie.”

oOo

The blonde Medical Examiner was already midway through an autopsy when Jane pushed her way quietly through the morgue door.

“What time was it this morning?” husked the detective.

Maura turned brightly, her eyebrows high, her attention obviously having been elsewhere, “Hmm?”

Jane clarified, “When you got up and came to work. What time?”

“Oh,” Maura was silent for a beat, holding a heart in bloody, glove-covered hands in front of her torso, before she shook her head, “I’m not even sure -”

“Maura,” Jane chided with a whine.

The blonde placed the heart gently into a steel bowl that sat on the side table by her hip and looked lovingly up at the brunette. She spoke softly as she reassured, “I’m fine, I promise. I just couldn’t get back to sleep and decided to make the best use of the extra time I had because...” It wouldn’t do to have Jane stressed and worrying about her own wellbeing on top of everything else. She gestured a hand and peered sadly down at the body lying prone on the table, an elderly man with his chest cracked wide open. Feeling every ounce of the dark-eyed weariness she had covered with concealer before dawn, she sighed, “We don’t know when the next one might come in.”

“I guess not.” To the doctor’s ears Jane sounded as if she hadn’t been out of bed very long, that early morning huskiness still present and still very disarming. “You still could have woken me.”

Maura tipped her head sympathetically, “You spent sixteen hours on your feet traipsing around Boston yesterday. You were exhausted.”

Jane relented, too tired to argue and, more precisely she supposed, concerned that Maura would easily see through her - the big, bad detective, clingy pain in the ass, more upset about waking up alone than she was about the nine bodies currently occupying Maura’s examination tables and refrigerated drawers.

They could go back and forth like this forever anyway; Jane arguing that Maura had spent just as much time on her feet cutting up dead people and Maura arguing how it’s not the same as doing the actual gumshoe thing, Jane arguing about all the brain power required to be a certified, if somewhat dorky genius, and Maura arguing she at least had a whole team of dorky geniuses to help her. 

Regardless, Jane thought, her mother was right; they both worked hard, as hard as was necessary and for as long as it took. That’s who they were and would always be. But this was turning out to be the case that would really test them, professionally and personally, as a team, and as a newly-formed couple.

One suspicious death had quickly turned into three and within twenty-four hours Maura had confirmed acetone poisoning as the cause of death. After forty-eight hours, Maura had a total of ten bodies to contend with; seven prematurely dead victims and three impatient and increasingly-irritating detectives.

They’d been banned from the morgue after that, told not to disturb the scientists from doing their tests and getting the answers the detectives kept begging for. Jane would have apologised over dinner that evening for her own behaviour but she and Maura had been like ships passing in the night as it was, and after seventy-two hours, with two more bodies in cold storage and a whole slew of reporters camped outside BPD, she had totally forgotten about it.

Maura’s eyebrow rose and she barked a very Rizzoli-like, “Really?”

Snapping out of her musings, Jane murmured with a shake of her head, “Hmm?”

The blonde chuckled at the irony, “You’ve harassed my staff for days for results that we couldn’t give you, but when I can talk to you about my findings you zone out.”

Jane huffed, despondent about the case and her own ability to focus in her current state, “Sorry, Maur’.”

Sweeping a hand over the body, Maura said, “I’m not done here, as you can see, but everything so far indicates possible poisoning.” She held a halting finger up at the brunette’s sparkling eyes and excited expression; no matter how much Jane teased her she would not guess and she would not take shortcuts. “Unless I uncover something that’s not already explained in his medical records we’ll just be waiting for the toxicology results to confirm my suspicions.”

“Like all the others.” Jane nodded, happy in a way that this body could be connected to their case; it made things simpler somehow, “Okay, I’ll head up and tell the guys.” Remembering the apology she had wanted to give days ago, she added quietly before turning to leave, “I’m sorry for disturbing you.”

“Jane -” Maura snapped off her gloves and moved around the table, meeting the detective where she stood just inside the door. Reaching up on tip toes, a palm covering each olive-skinned cheek, the doctor planted a full, wet kiss on the brunette’s lips and whispered alluringly, “You can disturb me anytime.”

Smirking, the brunette tipped her head, wrapped her free arm around the smaller woman’s waist and bent down to peck soft lips again, “Oh, really?”

“No,” Maura deadpanned, slapping Jane in the chest, making the brunette jump, release her and slosh coffee over the rim of her cup onto her fingers all at once. Flashing a dimpled smile, she shucked a thumb over her shoulder and moved away, “But I’ll forgive you this once. Now you should go so I can finish examining Mr. Fields.”

Jane turned with a smile and ducked out of the door, pausing to regard her girlfriend working through the little glass window as it swung closed. They’d be fine, she thought, if they could work through everything just like this; staying true to who they were, working hard for what was right, respecting each other and not being too proud to apologise.

oOo

Up in the bullpen, his desk littered with newspapers, Sergeant Detective Korsak greeted the brunette with a flick of his bushy eyebrows over his reading glasses.

Swaggering towards her own desk, Jane gestured to the articles with her free hand and groaned, “What’s the verdict?”

Dramatically, Korsak read from the covers of the Boston Globe and Boston Herald, “Murder mystery baffles city’s best cops. Nine bodies and counting as killing spree goes unsolved.”

Jane chuckled, nodding a morning greeting at Frost as she sat down opposite him, “Well, they got one bit right.”

Frost frowned, confused, “Nine bodies?”

Shaking her head, Jane grinned, “City’s best cops.”

He let out a bark of laughter, she was right of course, though the murder mystery part was discouragingly accurate, too.

For three days they had been run ragged by this case and not a single bit of information they’d turned up from house-to-house calls, background checks, or relative interviews had been helpful. They’d trudged through half the city looking for connections between victims, between crime scenes, tracking down criminals and informants alike for any sniff of a motive. At the end of the third day they had nothing, and it hurt. They weren’t even back at square one; they’d never left it.

There were no reports of altercations, no witnesses, no forced entries, nor any dodgy pasts that might have snuck up on a victim. There were no outward injuries, no defensive wounds, no bullet holes or marks of restraint. The bodies just appeared, scattered across the city at random. Everything confounded; taunting the detectives and haunting the medical examiner.

But then, the first batch of tox reports had come back and Maura had confirmed poisoning, though she’d said something infinitely more scientific and baffling which had caused all three detectives to scratch their heads for several minutes. And then, as if a tiny bit of momentum was all they had ever needed, Barry had had an epiphany and the link between their seemingly random and unconnected victims had been suggested, researched and tentatively confirmed. 

Every person, before ending up in the morgue, had bought groceries from the same store on the same day. CCTV, credit card payments, family statements; it all fit. It was flimsy and far from airtight but it was enough to spur on the detectives and make them feel like they were getting somewhere.

Korsak removed his glasses and placed them on the desk, clearing his throat, “Do you want the good news or the bad news?”


	15. Chapter 15

_"Do you want the good news or the bad news?"_

 

The brunette’s eyes flicked to Frost and then back to the Sergeant, surprised, “There’s good news?”

“Look’s like Frost might have cracked it. A quick call to each of the local hospitals confirmed a total of thirty-one cases of suspected acetone poisoning. The victims are all young, fit and healthy and expected to make a full recovery without any complications once they’re released from the emergency room. Nothing whatsoever in common except for that grocery store.”

 _Jesus. Forty poisonings._ “Oh, god, if that’s the good news…” Jane trailed off at the sensation of her heart free-falling into her stomach. This wasn’t going to end well. She rubbed at her temples as her partner took over.

“We had a call spike right after the news stations got hold of it; claims of possible food tampering, reports of suspicious illnesses, accusations against different stores, restaurants and suppliers…” He rolled his eyes at the public’s ridiculous compulsion for panic, “… even a few people who believed a family member was trying to kill them.”

Reading from some notes Korsak added, “There could be even more cases now that it’s gone public. Dr. Isles said paranoia can produce convincing psychosomatic symptoms that might give sufferers cause for concern. It’ll take time to rule those out.”

Jane was aghast that they’d have to spend even a minute of their precious time wading through attention-seekers and time-wasters, “This whole case is cause for concern!”

“We have to take every call seriously,” Korsak soothed. “But the Lieutenant’s put some extra people on it so we shouldn’t get bogged down with following them up. He knows we’re already stretched too thin.”

Jane was frustrated, and she growled quietly after checking for eavesdroppers, gesturing wildly to get her point across, “Yet another case where we can’t come up with a definite motive; could be corporate sabotage, could be random malicious mischief, could be domestic terrorism. We need to catch a fucking break soon.”

Trying to placate and calm her once more, Korsak offered, “If we’re lucky, someone will make a report, say they’re being threatened with extortion or whatever, and we can deal with it like a ransom demand.”

Frost raised his eyebrows, soaking up the wisdom of his peers, “And if we’re not so lucky?”

Jane sighed at Korsak’s pointed look, stating the obvious was painful, but not facing reality was worse, “If we’re not, and it’s just a random act by someone who’s bored, with no previous record and no motive other than to harm as many people as possible, then we’re screwed. Those kinds of cases rarely get solved.”

The sergeant almost chuckled, but this was the least humorous situation they’d found themselves in for a long time, “Not to mention the copycats we’ll have to contend with.”

The look on Frost’s face had Jane pre-empting his next question, “Food tampering cases inevitably always produce at least one copycat.” The brunette shrugged, “They think they can blend in and get away with it.”

Frost whispered to himself, “Oh, god.”

Nodding and gulping her lukewarm coffee, Jane murmured, “Mmm.” Oh, god indeed.

oOo

Lunch was supposed to be a quietly muted affair in the café but Angela had other ideas and made a fuss of the three detectives. She brought their meals and drinks to the table, asked questions about the case and tried, unwaveringly, to keep their spirits up.

Vince lapped up the attention, a frequent occurrence over the past few weeks that seemed to coincide with Angela making additional efforts, with Maura’s help, to glamorize her appearance.

Jane wasn’t sure how she felt about that part. She couldn’t argue with Maura that her mother was a wonderful and attractive woman, of course, but the entire premise of her mother potentially dating her friend and mentor raised the hairs on Jane’s arms. Still, she said nothing. They had an understanding now after months of building bridges; if she was happy then her mother was happy, and vice versa.

Despite his track record of three divorces, Vince wasn’t a sleazy ladies man, unlike a couple of other BPD employees who had tried it on with her recently-divorced mother and the brunette was content to let nature take its course. The other guys, however, had been purposely terrorized, threatened and intimidated, a tactic that Jane enjoyed a little more than she’d expected, and ultimately they had cowered and crawled away with their tails between their legs, leaving Jane satisfied that they were mice instead of men and unworthy of her mother in the first place.

Jane had waited patiently for Maura to join them for lunch, but as the men’s plates were cleared and she stabbed her fork forlornly once more at her cold food, her cellphone indicated a message from the blonde saying she was still too busy to make it.

The brunette shoved her cellphone back into its holster in a huff, interrupting the small talk at the table. Noticing Angela’s hand on Korsak’s forearm, she cleared her throat, still feeling a little awkward, “Can I get another coffee please, ma?”

Angela gathered up Jane’s plate and some empty cups and smiled, “Sure thing, sweetie. Be right back.”

Breaking the ensuing silence, Frost turned to Jane and asked, “So, what day is the moving van coming?”

Trying to remember what day it was in all the chaos of this case was bad enough, and Jane hadn’t even started packing, much to Maura’s chagrin, so she hedged, “Oh, er, two weeks on Saturday, I think.”

Frost chuckled at her uncertainty, knowing Maura would have taken care of all the arrangements to have Jane’s belongings relocated from her humble apartment to the doctor’s beautiful house.

“Angela is very excited,” commented Korsak, his eyes lingering on the woman as she worked the coffee machine behind the counter.

Jane snorted, “Of course she is, we’re sharing the van, so she’ll get an entire day of mother-daughter time, and she’s moving into Maura’s guesthouse. You’d think someone had offered her a free penthouse suite at the Beverley Hills the way she reacted.”

“Oh please,” butted Frost, “don’t try to tell me you’re not happy, too? You’ve slept at your apartment how many nights since you and the doc got together?!”

Pursing her lips and raising both eyebrows, Jane tried and failed to keep a lid on her sarcasm, “Not the point. Yes, I’m very happy to be moving in with my gorgeous, successful, genius girlfriend, and I’m humbled by her selfless generosity. Having my mother right next door will be super fun!”

oOo

Sometime later that afternoon, a very exhausted-looking Maura Isles entered the bullpen, case file in hand, instantly silencing and drawing the attention of the three detectives who were huddled around the whiteboard still trying to figure things out.

“Your ninth victim, John Fields, also died of acute acetone poisoning.”

Jane’s eyebrows were scrunched together; it was unheard of to get results that fast, “But I thought -”

Waving off Jane’s questions, the medical examiner explained, “I know, I only completed his autopsy this morning. But, because of the volume of bodies and the backlog in the morgue, I had blood and urine samples taken and sent off to toxicology when he was first brought in.”

“You had reason to suspect he was poisoned anyway…”

“Well, um, yes,” Maura stuttered, uncomfortable with the assertion that she had, for once, followed her gut and deviated from the usual process. “All of the autopsies were complicated by the victims’ pre-existing conditions that we had to rule out, but once a pattern became apparent it was only logical.” Back on familiar ground, she breathed and continued confidently, “Acetone is a substance that occurs naturally in the body so testing for excess levels can be difficult. Acetone poisoning usually only causes mild sickness until it’s broken down by the liver -”

“All those people in the ER…” muttered Frost.

Maura nodded in his direction, acknowledging the comment before continuing, pointing an index finger at the file, “But with certain pre-existing conditions, the body can’t cope with excess ketones in the blood and the strain on the liver. These people died because they were already sick.”

Dark eyes narrowed as the brunette took a step toward the doctor. Maura wouldn’t have come all the way up here, free of scrubs and re-dressed immaculately in her designer dress, just to tell the three detectives what they already knew. With her hands on her hips, Jane leaned forward, convinced that there was more to be shared, “We know all that, Maura. What else can you tell us?”

The M.E. spoke slowly, dread leeching from every pore, “Once we confirmed poisoning as cause of death in the first few cases, CSRU went back and collected the trash and leftover groceries from every crime scene. The crime lab has swabbed and tested hundreds of individual items.” Breathing tremulously, she continued, enunciating every word precisely, “After close examination, they’ve confirmed the presence at each scene of at least one plastic bottle with a puncture mark under the cap. The contents of every bottle tested positive for high levels of acetone.”

One word from Korsak was enough to make Jane and Frost instantly wide-eyed, “Aquabomber.” They glared at him before turning to Maura for confirmation.

Maura nodded sadly, “I’m afraid so.” She closed the report and stepped forward, holding the manila file at arm’s length, offering it to her dark-haired detective, “Jane.” She breathed in deeply and let out her words with a sigh, sorrow lacing every syllable, “It’s in the water.”


End file.
